Enchanted
by evilmanray
Summary: AU. An old fairytale long since forgotten becomes a reality when Yao Wang, a single divorce lawyer living in New York City, finds a very lost Prince Ivan The Brave, the heir to the throne of the Soviet Union. Russia/China, Ivan/Yao.
1. Prologue

**Title**: Enchanted

**Pairings**: Russia/China (Korea/Hong Kong, US/UK, France/Canada, Germany/N. Italy, Spain/S. Italy, Japan/Greece, Poland/Lithuania, Austria/Hungary, Austria/Prussia)

_(More pairings may be added, such as Sweden/Finland. They might pop in somewhere.)_

**Summary**: AU. An old fairytale long since forgotten becomes a reality when Yao Wang, a single divorce lawyer living in New York City, finds a very lost Prince Ivan The Brave, the heir to the throne of the Soviet Union. Russia/China, Ivan/Yao.

**Disclaimer**: I seriously don't own APH. If I did, every pairing mentioned above would more canon (than it already it). Also, Russia and China would have fun, happy smexytimes.

**A/N**: Some of you may know my for my last fantasy RoChu fic, Beauty and the Beast. If not, check it out :) This may or may not be updated a frequently as I updated that one. Okay, so, I love Korea/Hong Kong (KoHo). If you don't, then leave. Seriously. This isn't the fic for you. I hope you guys enjoy embarking on another fanfiction journey with me!!

This will be based off of that one movie, Enchanted, where the chick falls down the well and the seriously awesome Patrick Dempsey saves her.

* * *

"Come on, Yao! Tell us a story!"

"It's late, aru. You two need to go to bed—"

"No! _Story_!"

"You're ten, Yong Soo. Aren't you a little too old for stories?"

"I invented stories, so I can never get too old for them!"

"You didn't _invent_ stories, aru… See, making up lies like that is why Hong Kong is your only friend."

"They're not lies! I'm Korean, so I invented everything."

"Of course you did."

"Will you _please_ tell me a fairytale, Yao?!"

"Just tell him a story," Kiku said. "I want to go to sleep."

"Fine, aru," Yao sighed. He still had studying to do, but if a story would put Yong Soo to sleep and keep him from annoying him late at night, then so be it. "Where's your story book?"

"Don't tell me a story from the book! That's boring!" Yong Soo whined. "Make one up!"

"You want me to create a story? Right now, aru?" Yao asked.

"Please, just do it," Kiku all but begged.

"_One_ story, okay? That's all," Yao sighed, and took a seat on the edge of Yong Soo's bed, tucking the other in more snugly before starting. "Once upon a time in a faraway land, there was a prince named… um, Ivan Braginski. They called him Ivan The Brave. He was the prince of the empire named the… the Soviet Union, aru!" Kiku sent him a disbelieving look. Well, it wasn't Yao's fault he was unoriginal at _nine_ at night! "While on an adventure in the woods with his older sister… err… Ukraine, the princess, he met the fairest maiden in all the land. In order to become king, Ivan would have to marry a woman, so he decided to marry the fairest maiden, aru.

Everyone in the kingdom of the Soviet Union was happy for him, except for Natalia. She crashed the wedding and challenged Ivan to a duel. If she won, then Ivan would have to marry _her_, aru. If he won, then she would marry Ivan's best friend, Toris, as Toris was deeply in love with her. In the end, Ivan defeated Natalia with his… aru, his metal pipe! Yes, that's it." Another disbelieving look from Kiku was sent his way. "The wedding continued, and the next day, Natalia married Toris. They all lived happily ever after. The end. Go to bed, aru."

"Did the prince love the fairest maiden?" Yong Soo asked, wide-eyed. "You never said."

"… If I say yes, will you go to sleep?"

"No!"

"Why not, aru?"

"Because it doesn't sound like Ivan loved the fairest maiden!"

"Fine. He loved somebody else. The end."

"No, he loved a boy named Yao Wang!"

"… You're spending too much time watching daytime television on the weekends. It's been a bad influence on you lately, hasn't it? He did not love a boy named Yao, aru. Don't model characters after your oldest brother. That's weird."

"It's not weird! You made up the wrong ending. The fairest maiden was _really_ in love with Toris instead, so they got married!"

"But what about the witch, aru?"

"Ivan killed her!"

"Im Yong Soo! He did _not_ kill her!"

"Man, you're such a killjoy. He put Natalia to sleep so that she would never, ever wake up with… a poison apple! And _then_ he married the boy named Yao."

"He never married a boy named Yao!"

"Yes, he did! And then there was a boy who loved cats who married a boy named Kiku Honda, who also loved cats!"

"I don't—" Kiku began, but was cut off by his older brother

"That's _not_ how the story goes, aru!" Yao shouted.

"That's how it goes now! And then, in another kingdom called Korea, there was a boy—no, a _prince_ named Im Yong Soo The Genius, and a boy named Hong Kong, and they got married, too!"

"Fine. Whatever. Everyone's gay. That's how it ends, aru."

"Do you _swear_ you're okay with the ending?"

"I swear, aru. Now go to sleep. You have school tomorrow."

"I invented school, so I don't think I should have to go!"

"_Sleep_, aru. Good night."

Yao instantly regretted telling Yong Soo that story and letting him change it around when the ten-year-old came home from school with Hong Kong, proclaiming himself prince of Korea, and that Hong was his fairest maiden and wife. No doubt Hong Kong's cousin and Yao's classmate and friend, Arthur, was going to have something to say about it once he got wind of the situation.

* * *

**A/N**: Short, as most prologues are. I love Yong Soo to death and I really want to squeeze him in a hug so hard that he pops! :) Okay, maybe not... If you're wondering why Ukraine is Ukraine, I don't like the whole 'fan made up name' deal. She doesn't have an _official_ name, so she's going to stay Ukraine. Just as Hong Kong is Hong Kong. His first name is Hong, and his last name Kong. (Original parents, huh?)

Ivan The Great, Ivan The Terrible, and now Ivan The Brave? Oh, lord...


	2. Chapter I

**A/N**: And here we are, in the land of the Soviet Union! Thanks to all of you for reviewing... It was only the prologue. I didn't think it'd be _that_ popular :) I appreciate it very much! I don't know if you're going to find this chapter interesting. It's just kind of setting up the plot for the rest of the story. But, I added humor! Seriously, you guys. I can't do anything without a bit of humor. **I'm not the most serious/dramatic/angsty author, so don't really look for those elements in this story**... (I bolded that so more people would bother to read it)

* * *

"Isn't it a wonderful day, sister?" Ivan asked.

Ukraine nodded.

"The castle is so boring," Ivan continued. "And it's so cold inside! A little walking around the woods never did anyone any harm, right? The only bad thing that has ever happened was that Raivis was almost killed by that bear, but he lived, so that incident doesn't matter. I'm so glad it's not snowing, aren't you, da?"

Ukraine nodded again.

"You don't say much, sister," the prince pointed out quite obviously. "But I guess that is good! You are such a crybaby, da. It's better that you are quiet rather than you are wailing like a little girl. Your presence never grows tiring, though. Da, I assure you of that. You should stop hanging out with all your other friends, like that one prince from the kingdom of Italy. He's loud and rude and stupid. And the blonde with the glasses is obnoxious. Both of them are not even from the Soviet Union! Oh, and that boy who does nothing but sleep and play with cats. He's not a good influence, da. You should spend time with me more! We could have adventures like this _every_ day!" Ivan gestured to the endless lines of trees. "Oh, and you still need to pay me back for that gas I lent you, sister."

Ukraine nodded once more, but all she really wanted to do was turn around and go home.

"Do you hear that, brother?" she asked when the sound of singing—well, if you could call what she was hearing _singing_—reached her ears.

"I hear nothing," Ivan replied. "You are so crazy, da."

"No, listen!" Ukraine pleaded.

The prince paused in his walking for a moment and strained to hear.

"Da," he answered after a moment. "It sounds as if someone is killing one of your lazy friend's cats. Do you think someone is dying…?"

"We should go help them!" Ukraine said.

"No, it's not our problem," Ivan said bluntly, and then continued on his walk through the woods. His older sister didn't follow. Instead, she stayed rooted to her spot, wavering between the choice of going to follow her younger brother like a good, obedient princess, or going to go look for the person like a kindhearted citizen and risk getting hit with a metal pipe. The last option was the right thing to do, but definitely not the best idea. Ivan turned around when he noticed there was no one walking beside him. "Sister? Are you coming?"

"We need to go find them!" she said, turning on the waterworks. The tears usually bent Ivan to her will. "Please!"

"Fine, da. I'll come with you. Don't be such a sissy," Ivan replied. He held up his metal pipe and smiled. "Or else."

"Thank you!" Ukraine grabbed his hand and started pulling him in the direction of the noise, nearly stumbling over tree roots and bushes in her haste. Ivan thankfully managed to keep both of them upright and steady as she led him through the forest. Did she even know where she was going? The prince certainly hoped so. He really didn't want to get lost and accidentally happen upon someone he did not want to see. "You can be very kind sometimes, brother! I hope that someone somewhere will eventually realize that! Ooh, look! Do you see that?!"

"It's a house," Ivan deadpanned. "Da, I see it. Who would live in the woods?"

"Someone who loves nature?" his older sister suggested.

"Stay here," the prince commanded, using his arm to stop her from continuing forward. "I will inspect the house and make sure it is safe. I do not want you doing anything rash, sister. This could be the lodging of a criminal hiding from the righteous punishment of the Soviet Union, da."

"But—"

"You will stay."

"… Yes, brother."

Ivan nodded, and braced himself with his metal pipe as he approached the cottage-like house. Of course, the screeching sound only seemed to get louder as he advanced. Saving all pleasantries for later as this was a very serious mission, he kicked down the door to the house. Not a second later, a very pissed looking blonde dressed in all pink was in his face. Well, they _kind of_ looked like a boy, but the dress told the prince to think otherwise. Either way, the person did not look happy.

"You're, like, so totally going to have to pay for that. Who are you, anyway?" he—she?—asked.

They were certainly suspicious.

"I am Prince Ivan The Brave of the Soviet Union. My full name is Ivan Braginski," Ivan introduced himself. "Who are _you_?"

"My name is Feliks! It's spelled, like, F-E-L-I-K-S."

"Are… you a boy?"

"Yeah, I'm totally a boy! But I'm also the fairest maiden!"

"So you are not a boy?"

"I just said that I am a boy."

"Then how can you be the fairest maiden? Are you one of those people who is neither gender?"

"… No. I'm, like, totally a boy."

"But you are the fairest maiden and you dress like a girl, da."

"It's only a hobby!" Feliks leaned against the now busted doorway and crossed his arm. He raked his eyes over Ivan, making the other feel just a bit uncomfortable. "So, you're, like, a _prince_?"

"Not 'like'. I _am_ a prince!"

"As in royalty?"

"… Da. As in royalty."

"Do you know Toris?"

"Toris, da! Toris and his brothers are my best friends!"

"Like, really?!" Feliks looked excited. "Can you, like, take me back to the castle to see him?!"

"Answer some questions first," Ivan said. "Why are you living in the woods? Are you a criminal?"

"For looking seriously hot, yeah. I'm a criminal," Feliks said, winking.

"Is there something in your eye?"

"… Um, no." Feliks coughed. "To, like, answer your first question, I was riding through the woods on my pretty pony, and then I got totally lost! I was only looking for the Soviet Union castle so I could meet up with Toris and get married to him! Because we're, like, in love. So… I found this place and I've been here for, like, three days. It's really boring. Nature is stupid. This one bear almost killed my cute little pony! So, will you, like, take me back to the castle? I miss Toris!"

Ivan wondered if it was the bear that almost killed Raivis. Maybe the bear had a grudge against cute things?

"Fine. I will take you back to the castle, da."

He wasn't called Ivan The Brave for nothing!

It took much bravery to deal with the incessant chatter of Felkis, Ivan realized about halfway through the trip home. At least Ukraine was keeping her mouth shut and not saying a word. All Feliks seemed to like talking about was Toris. Toris this, Toris that. It was really starting to grate on the brave prince's nerves, but he trudged on and had enough self-restraint not to knock the blonde out with his metal pipe. It was so tempting, though…

---

"… Feliks? What are you doing here?"

"Ivan, like, totally found me in the woods and rescued me!" Feliks grabbed Toris in a chokehold and smothered his face with short kisses. Toris didn't look too pleased, more surprised than anything, and Eduard covered Raivis's eyes with his hands to preserve his innocence. That, Ivan didn't really understand, since Raivis could hold his liquor better than anybody else he knew. "See, I'm here so we can, like, get married now!"

"Whoa, wait a second. What are you talking about?" Toris automatically shoved the other off of him. "M-_Married_?! Since when have we even been engaged?!"

"Since forever, duh," Feliks said, rolling his eyes.

"I never knew we were engaged…"

"Yeah, well, we are." The blonde put a hand on his hip in an irritated stance. "So, we need to get married. After all, I _am_ the fairest maiden."

"Since when?!"

"Once again, since forever. Duh."

"I approve of this union, da!" Ivan said casually.

"See? The prince approves!" Feliks said, happily clapping his hands.

"I-I don't think us getting married is such a good idea…" Toris mumbled.

"Of course it is!" Feliks encouraged him. "When can we get married, Ivan?"

"I do not care when," the prince answered, shrugging. "Tomorrow, if you want."

"_Tomorrow_?" Toris gulped. "Um, Ivan, why are you doing this…?"

"Because I like seeing you happy!" Ivan replied with a smile.

Toris thought that was obviously a big, fat lie.

---

"Aren't you happy for him, brother?" Ukraine all but sobbed in her seat in the pew. A few people sitting in the pew behind her shushed her. Ukraine's mascara was running because of her tears and ruining the rest of her makeup. She blew her nose with her handkerchief and then used it to wipe off her face. Disgusted and offended at the same time, the prince edged away from her discreetly. "He's marrying the fairest maiden! Isn't it sweet? Little Toris is all grown up! I remember when he was so little!"

"Wonderful," Ivan said curtly.

"It is!" the princess blubbered.

"Shush, sister!" Ivan held a finger to his lips and gestured to the service that was _still going on_. "You are interrupting it, da."

"Sorry!" she gushed, and latched onto his arm. Ivan tried not to shudder.

He was Ivan The Brave. He could endure this… He could endure anything…

"Hold the wedding!" a shrill voice rang out.

_Natalia_.

Okay, so maybe he couldn't endure _anything_.

"Where is Ivan?!"

Natalia was the evil witch that lived in the woods, and was quite possibly the main reason every stayed out of the forest. Even Sir Alfred hated going in there, lest he had to face her. She was crazily obsessed with Prince Ivan and would do anything to get her hands on him. Ivan, unfortunately for her, did not share the same feeling of infatuation. The heir to the throne of the Soviet Union was her idée fixe. The prince would give anything not to be. In all honesty, she really creeped him out.

"I am not here, sister," he whispered to his sister, sinking lower in his seat so as not to be seen.

"He's right over here!" Ukraine shouted, standing up and waving.

"_Sister_!" Ivan hissed.

God, she could be such a complete dunderhead sometimes! It was almost painfully embarrassing. But he still loved his sister. Well, most of the time.

"Who the fuck are you?!" Romano, the prince of Italy and a friend of Ukraine, hollered rudely. "This isn't your wedding! Get the fuck out!"

"This will be _my_ wedding!" Natalia said loudly. "_You_ get out!"

"I was invited here!" the Italian said back, rolling his eyes. "Unlike _some_ people!"

"I don't have time for you!" Natalia growled.

She clapped once, and soon the whole room was enveloped in a black smoke. Ivan coughed and covered his face with his scarf to prevent himself from breathing it in. Ukraine covered her mouth with one hand and batted the smoke away with the other. The smoke grew so thick and dark that after a minute or two, Ivan couldn't see a thing other than blackness. The prince stopped himself from grabbing the metal pipe attached to his side when a hand started crawling up his chest and fingers began twirling his hair. It wouldn't do to crush the evil witch's face with his weapon of choice, in case she got angry enough that she cursed him.

"Ivan…" Natalia's voice whispered in his ear.

"Da…" was the only reply he could bring forth from his lips.

"This should have been _our_ wedding," the witch breathed. "You should marry me! We can be King and Queen of the Soviet Union!"

"Ah, no, thank you," Ivan said politely, shaking his head.

He'd rather marry Feliks than Natalia, and that was saying something.

"You _will_ marry me!" Natalia growled, and tugged on his hair.

"I will not!" the prince said back.

"Yes! Marry me!"

"No!"

"_Fine_!" Ivan winced when his vital regions were unceremoniously attacked by her knee. "If I can't have you, then no one can! You will go to a place where there are _no_ happy endings!"

Hands rested on his chest. Bright lights flashed. He passed out and sank to the floor before his entire figure dissolved.

"… Oh my god…" Feliks gasped when the smoke cleared. "Like, what just happened?"

About a third of the room's attendants had disappeared, including Ivan The Brave.

* * *

**A/N**: Ivan The Brave. The name fits, hmm? Dear Ivan's Vital Regions, I'm sorry I had Natalia knee them. It seemed fitting, though. Love, prayingforlove. TOMORROW IS MY BIRTHDAY. I'M GOING TO BBE 14!! I'M SO EXCITED!! Okay, enough about me. Back to this story. If you're wondering about the 'no happy endings' line, I kind of stole that from the movie, Enchanted. I do not own part of that line. I can't wait to see you next time!! :)

R&R!


	3. Chapter II

**A/N**: This is... um... *cough* Wow. The feedback from you guys really motivates me, so I present to you another chapter! Keep that feedback coming, you guys. I love hearing from you! :) I really loved writing cynical lawyer!Yao this time. I hope you enjoy this chapter...

* * *

"Are you sure you want to go through with this, aru? Divorce is a heavy thing. I know being a divorce lawyer is my job, but you two really seem like a nice couple that could try to work things out."

Elizabeta snorted.

"Okay, let me put it to you this way," she said. Her soon to be ex-husband fidgeted in his seat beside her. "What would you do if your husband told you he was gay?"

"… That… comparison doesn't work, aru."

The room was full of awkward silence after his reply.

"W-Well," Yao coughed, adjusting his tie. Was it just him, or did it feel like the room had suddenly spiked in temperature? These two, Roderich Edelstein and Elizabeta Héderváry (she insisted on being addressed by her maiden name), were probably the most socially retarded couple he'd ever had the not-pleasure of working with. Most divorcing couples fought every two seconds and he had to calm them down. Calming people down was one of his specialties—he looked after Yong Soo, after all. But the man always tried to appear calm, and his almost ex-wife did most of the talking while Yao sat there, nervous. They weren't angry over getting divorced. Why? It was all so frustrating and uncomfortable. "So, why do you want to file for a divorce? Just asking, aru. It's a standard procedure."

"We've been friends for a long time," Elizabeta began. Yao sighed and rubbed his temples with his fingertips. No doubt this was going to be a long and stretched out tale of woe, as most things were with her. He wanted to hear their reason for getting divorced, not their entire _life story_. "Well, I think we met in kindergarten, and we've been best friends ever since! So, you know, we went all through high school with people telling us to get together and stuff, so… _He_ asked _me_ out in college. Just clarifying things over who wanted to start this." Roderich glared at her from behind his glasses. "So, we got married for joint benefits and accounts and stuff like that."

"How long have you two been married?" Yao cut in.

"Almost a year," Elizabeta replied.

"Not even a year?" Yao asked. "I'm sure you could work things out, aru. Most newlyweds think about divorcing, but—"

"He's _gay_," Elizabeta deadpanned.

Roderich covered his face with his hands, utterly embarrassed.

"… Right," the lawyer muttered. He was even embarrassed _for_ the other. Men didn't deserve to have their homosexuality proclaimed loudly. Yao could sympathize with the Austrian. Yong Soo had declared to the entire firm that his oldest brother didn't necessarily favor women over men when he first started working there. It only got more humiliating when Arthur, a good friend from school and now co-worker, tried to relate to his situation and offer him comfort. Even _Francis_ had made a move on him, and that was something he didn't really appreciate. So, after being rejected by the then newly 'outed' Yao, Francis went seeking comfort from a newly hired and oblivious Canadian receptionist who had no idea what was going on. "Y-Yes, aru. Well… I don't think you could work that out…"

"_Duh_," the Hungarian said, rolling her eyes. "He's even got another person!"

"E-Elizabeta!" Roderich attempt to hush her, but it was all in vain.

"Didn't you see that albino out there?" Elizabeta continued.

"… Oh, aru," Yao said quietly.

He thought that now apparently a person was a coat rack or something.

Great, now he owed an albino an apology for throwing his coat on them.

He blamed it on not having enough time to have his morning tea, thanks to Yong Soo messing around with his alarm clock and making it go off a half hour late.

"Wow, look at the time!" the Chinese man said, standing up, and attempting to usher the divorcing couple out of his office. Even though it was fifteen minutes before their scheduled time was up, Yao was hungry, wanted food and possibly a coffee, and desperately longed for those two to be _gone_. "Time sure does fly by when you're having fun, aru!"

"_Fun_?" Roderich repeated.

"Fun, aru!" Yao affirmed, all but shoving them out of the room. He closed the door behind them. "I will see you tomorrow, then?"

"Yes," Roderich responded curtly, nodding.

"There are no pets allowed in this building, sir! Didn't you see the bloody sign?!" Arthur's voice carried back to their hallway. "I'm going to have to call security if you don't remove both yourself, and that bird!"

"It's not a pet! It's my awesome Gilbird!" another voice floated back.

"What is Gilbert doing now…?" the Austrian muttered.

"Something stupid," Elizabeta added.

"Well, thank you very much for your time," Roderich, ever the polite one, said to Yao, nodding. "Now, we must—"

"Wait. Is Gilbert the albino?" Yao asked.

"… Yes. Why?"

"Tell him I'm sorry for throwing my coat on him this morning, aru. I thought he was a coat rack."

"… Um… I'll be sure to."

The two left, leaving Yao to stand alone in the hallway. After waiting a good five minutes to make sure the two, hopefully plus the albino harassing Arthur, had left the building, the lawyer ventured out into the common area. The Canadian receptionist waved at him. Damn, Yao could never remember his name, so he simply waved back. That seemed to satisfy the Canadian. Arthur was busy fuming and attempting to pick up pieces of paper off of the floor without ripping them in anger.

"What happened, aru?" Yao asked.

"Stupid git, thinks he's a _Prussian_, waltzes in here with a bloody chick!" the British man grumbled loudly. He picked up a couple pieces of paper and shoved them in Yao's face. "You see these?! These were neatly stacked on the counter until that… that little _demon_ animal knocked them over! And you know what that man did?! He praised him. Actually, _praised_ him! And then he had the gall to call me a 'pansy-ass, not-awesome British bitch'! I'm surrounded by inconsiderate idiots!"

"I'm sorry to hear that?" Yao muttered.

"Oh, no, not you!" Arthur quickly apologized. "You're probably one of the only sane ones. You and the receptionist—that's about it. Damn Bonnefoy's a flirtatious pervent who's only life goal is stick his hand into the pants of every man on this planet!"

"H-Hey!" Matthew shouted from behind his desk, but no one heard him, as his 'shout' was really a whisper. Besides, it's not like anybody bothered to listen to him, anyway.

"The person who owns the bank down the street is nice," Yao suggested.

"He hides guns on his person," Arthur argued. "And he's from Switzerland."

"That's a bad thing?"

"Yes. No. I don't know, and frankly, I don't care! I'm seriously angry right now!"

"Alright, aru." The lawyer paused. "I'm going out to get some lunch now. Do you want anything…?"

"No, no, I'll be fine," the British man assured him. "If I need anything, I'll ask my assistant."

"He's your cousin, aru."

"Peter doubles as both!" Arthur shooed him away. "Out, out! Before the crowds start building!"

Yao didn't have to be told twice.

---

Yao finally stepped out of McDonald's with a cup of coffee. He didn't like McDonald's at all, but it was the only place that sold items of nourishment that cost a dollar. He had left his wallet in his coat (which, he noticed a little too late, was thankfully thrown over a chair in the reception area) and he only had about two dollars in his pocket. He _would_ have had a ten in there, but only if Yong Soo didn't feel the need to pick his pockets for some 'loose change' every so often. Suddenly, someone was blocking his path back to his office building.

Wow.

This guy was massive. Why was he wearing a reversed Red Army coat and a scarf? It was _spring_. Not to mention the metal pipe attached to his side was a little intimidating.

"… Um… are you lost?" Yao asked.

"Da, very, very lost!" the man replied. "One moment I am at a wedding between the fairest maiden and my friend, Toris. And then the next, I am here, in this dirty excuse for a city! What do you people call it? 'New York City'?"

He definitely had a Russian accent.

"Yes, this is New York City…" Yao said, a bit hesitant. "Are you from Russia?"

"No, no! I am from the kingdom of the Soviet Union!"

Why did everything he was saying sound so familiar?

"… Really, aru."

"Really!"

"Well, then…" Maybe Yao could help him look into some mental help places. "I'm Yao Wang, aru. What's your name?"

"I am Prince Ivan The Brave of the Soviet Union! My full name is Ivan Braginski, da."

Yao definitely heard that somewhere before.

Oh, right. That one story he told Yong Soo.

"How much is my little brother paying you?" the lawyer asked, raising an eyebrow. "Did he use that ten he stole from me, aru? Look, if you're that strapped for cash, I can help you find a job and whatnot…"

"You have a little brother?"

"Okay, who hired you to come scare me? Some Korean kid named Im Yong Soo, right, aru?"

"… I don't know anyone by that name or description, da."

"You don't?" This really wasn't funny. "This isn't funny."

"I am not trying to be funny!" Ivan said. "I told you, I am lost! This is New York City, but back in my homeland, or even in any of the other kingdoms, there was no such place called New York City! Every person I ask for help tells me to 'go back to Russia, you communist'! I do not even know what a Russia is! Please, you've got to help me, da!" Ivan grabbed his shoulders. "Like I said, I am a prince! Prince Ivan The Brave! If you help me get back home, I will pay you handsomely, da! Anything you like—it shall be yours! I just want to go home…"

"The Soviet Union dissolved a long time ago, aru," Yao stated, not amused. "Seriously, how much is Yong Soo paying you?"

"I do not know this Yong Soo that you speak of!"

"Why don't you go ask somebody else for help?"

Yao didn't feel like dealing with this much crazy in one day.

"But no one else is as pretty as you!" Ivan said.

"I… what?" Yao asked.

"All the stories say that fairest maiden in all the land should be able to help a prince!" Ivan repeated. "And you obviously look like the fairest maiden of New York City, da."

"… Fairest maiden, aru? No, you have it all wrong. I'm a—"

"A boy can be the fairest maiden, too! Da, my friend Toris was just about to marry the fairest maiden, Feliks who I am pretty sure is not a woman."

"This isn't amusing, aru!"

"The fairest maiden is supposed to listen to the prince!"

"I'm not the fairest maiden!"

"Da, you are!"

Yao took a deep breath, and tried to compose himself. A couple of onlookers were giving him blank stares, or odd looks. He didn't want to be known as the mentally unstable divorce lawyer of New York City who picked fights with Russians who looked like they could crush you with one touch. No, he had to settle this rationally and get 'Ivan The Brave' some help.

"Listen, aru," he began. "I'll take you to my house, make you some food, let you take a shower. Then we'll go see if there's any way we can take you back home." (Read: I am going to ship you back off to Russia.)

"Da, that would be nice!" Ivan replied with a smile that was _actually_ a bit cute.

Only a bit!

---

"Im Yong Soo, remember what I said about indecent activities with Hong Kong on the couch?" Yao called as he opened the door. He didn't even need to look in his apartment to know that Yong Soo was probably mouth-raping Hong against the other Chinese boy's will. It happened just about every Saturday. Hong quickly pushed Yong Soo off of him and onto the floor, making the Korean whine at both pain and sudden lack of stimulation.

"S-Sorry!" Hong said back.

"It's not your fault, aru," Yao said, even though he wasn't the one being addressed.

"Your house is pretty," Ivan stated. "Not as pretty as Yao, though!"

"… Who is that?" Hong looked over his shoulder and stared at the husky Russian accompanying the Chinese lawyer. His face was still flushed from previous events that Yao didn't really want to ever, _ever_ know about.

"Where's Yong Soo?" Yao asked, ignoring Hong's question.

"Present!" the Korean said cheerily, popping up from his spot on the floor. Yao tried to ignore the blatant mark on his neck, and Hong covered his red face with his hands to avoid further mortification.

"Would you care to explain who this is, aru?" Yao asked, gesturing to Ivan. "He claims to be Prince Ivan The Brave of the Soviet Union. I don't suppose you had anything to do with this, did you, aru? If you did, speak up now, because I am lawyer, meaning I _will_ find out if you paid this poor man to scare me."

"I swear to god, Yao, I've never seen him!" Yong Soo defended himself.

"_That_ is Yong Soo?!" Ivan gasped. "I know you!"

"Im Yong Soo…!" Yao growled.

"I don't know you!" Yong Soo told Ivan.

"Da, you do not know me, but I know you!" Ivan said. "You are the long lost prince of Korea!"

"… What?" all three Asians in the room asked simultaneously.

"_I'm_ the long lost prince of Korea?" Yong Soo asked. Ivan nodded. "Wait, wait. You are Prince Ivan The Brave of the Soviet Union? I don't suppose your name is Ivan Braginski…?"

"Da, it is!"

"Do you know a guy named Toris?"

"Da, he is my best friend!"

"And is your sister named Ukraine?"

"Da. Wow, you are so smart!"

"What are you doing?" Hong asked.

"Hold on a second, Hong," Yong Soo said. "And were Toris and the fairest maiden about to get married?"

"Yes, da, yes! They were! You really are the lost prince!" Ivan seemed ecstatic.

Hong and Yao exchanged a wary glance.

"… I think we need to take a moment, settle ourselves down, and assess the situation, aru," the lawyer said calmly.

"I've already assessed it!" Yong Soo stated proudly. "The fairytale I invented when I was ten is _real_!"

* * *

**A/N**: Happy birthday to meeeee~ Okay, okay, I'll shut up about my 14 years of age now. I seriously enjoyed writing this chapter! As you can probably see, I enjoy humor a lot. And KoHo. I can totally see Yong Soo mouth-raping Hong Kong. I love you all! Mwah! Poor Roderich. I love him too much to leave him alone. And Arthur. I love him too much, also. Next chapter, we're bringing in some Ivan's also very lost friends! :)

BTW, gay marriage is legal in the kingdom of the Soviet Union (as evidenced by Toris and the fairest maiden, AKA Feliks). In 'our' world, no. I don't want to also change around the rules of our world.

R&R!


	4. Chapter III

**A/N**: CynicalLawyer!Yao, UptightLawyer!Arthur, and ObliviousReceptionist!Matthew are fun to write. I honestly didn't think this story would be so popular... I love you all!! :) Haha, sorry if you kind of find this a filler. Well, a new person shows up at the end!

* * *

Silence. Yong Soo couldn't be right. That explanation was totally implausible. Fairytales weren't _real_. But if the Korean didn't have anything to do with Prince Ivan's sudden appearance, and Yao was pretty sure Kiku wouldn't do something so _stupid_ like hire a possible Russian mafia member to pose as a prince and scare him, where the hell had this guy come from? Yao seriously doubted the guy was actually a prince from the make believe land of Soviet Union. The idea was preposterous.

"How did you say you got here, again?" Yao asked, just for clarification.

"Well, I was at the wedding, and then the evil witch Natalia crashed it!" Ivan explained. "Da, she tried to force me to marry her, but I said no. Then, she said something about sending me to a place that had no happy endings, I passed out, and then I ended up on a bench in that one park. Central, I believe people were calling it, da. One moment I am at home, and then the next, I am here!"

"… Right, aru," Yao said. "Well, I have to get back to work, so—"

"You're leaving?" Ivan seemed stunned. "Da, if you are leaving, then I must come too."

"What? No! You really don't have to, aru."

"No, no, I must! It's a prince's duty to protect the fairest maiden!"

"For the last time, I'm _not_ the fairest maiden of New York City!"

"Da, you may deny it all you want, but it's true."

"… Did he just call you the fairest maiden?" Yong Soo asked.

"Now's not the time for jokes, aru!" Yao sighed. "Fine, you can come. Just… let's go. But leave the metal pipe."

---

"So, you walk around to get everywhere?" Ivan asked as Yao led him through the streets of New York City. He'd already bumped into a couple of people and accidentally knocked one over in the less than five minutes they'd been out. Yao decided to keep Ivan on the inside of the street. The prince had been marveling over cars for the last minute, especially large trucks, and Yao didn't want him to run into the street to stop one. "Back in the Soviet Union, we rode horses to faraway places. Feliks said he had a pony, but there's not much of a difference, da. Why doesn't Yao or Yong Soo or Hong or the other people on the street have a car?"

"We're close enough to everything that we can walk," Yao explained. "No need in adding more pollution to the environment, aru."

"… Da," Ivan said, but sounded utterly confused.

"Alright, let's get some things straight," the lawyer began, hushed, in case anyone could hear them. The streets were packed with people, and it always paid to be careful with your conversations in case anybody was trying to listen in. "We're going to where I work as a lawyer, aru. You're an old friend of mine from Moscow, Russia, visiting in New York City to see me. You're fascinated by this country's culture, even though you do _not_ speak English. So don't say anything. That's your story, aru. If anybody asks you a question, don't answer. I'll answer for you. Play along with whatever I say. The only people I trust and the ones that you're allowed to engage in conversation with are Arthur and the receptionist whose name I can't remember, aru. Also, don't touch anything. Understood?"

"Da."

The walk from Yao's apartment building to the law firm was usually around ten minutes, but with the prince in tow, it turned out to be a very taxing fifteen-minute excursion. Ivan managed to get distracted by just about everything from signs to restaurants to innocent bystanders and managed to offend at least three more people. By the time they reached his law firm, all Yao wanted to do was collapse on a chair in the lobby and maybe take a nap, but Ivan's presence made that impossible. As soon as he walked through the door, Arthur looked at him as if he'd grown another head.

"… Who…" The British man opened and closed his mouth many times as if he was a fish out of water. "Yao. Who _is_ that?"

"This is Ivan Braginski," Yao said, gesturing to the not-Russian. Ivan waved and smiled, only further scaring Arthur. "Hey, is anybody else around at the moment?"

"I don't believe so," the other said, looking towards the receptionist for confirmation.

"No," the Canadian said with a shake of his head.

"Okay, here's what I need you to do, aru," Yao instructed the receptionist. "He claims he's Prince Ivan The Brave of the Soviet Union. I need to you google things with his name in them, look him up on the computer, use any resources to see if there really is a Prince Ivan The Brave featured in some Renaissance festival or if he's some mobster criminal fleeing Russia under a fake identity to skip out on jail time. Yong Soo claims he popped out of this fairytale I made up for him when—"

"You made up a fairytale?" Arthur asked. "And this guy was a character you created?"

"Yes, aru," Yao affirmed.

"That's plausible," Arthur said after a moment of thinking. "Yes, I can see that happening."

"… You're telling _you_ believe that this guy popped out of a story I made up?"

"Well, yes. I can see fairies, so why shouldn't I believe that this man is from an alternate universe?"

Oh, right. Of course Arthur would side with Yong Soo.

"Besides, with your luck, or apparent lack thereof, this type of thing probably would happen," the British man added unnecessarily.

Yao decided to ignore Arthur's opinion and possible state of insanity.

"… Either way, aru…" The lawyer looked at the nametag resting on the reception desk quickly. "Matthew, I still need you to look him up."

"Yes, Mister Wang," Matthew replied.

"Did I get any calls while I was out, aru?"

"One from… Antonio Fernandez Carriedo. He's also working with the Edelstein couple, eh…?"

"Great. What did he want?"

"He's coming with them tomorrow when their appointment is. Around noon…"

"Wonderful, aru. Call him back and tell him I am completely fine with that."

"Yes, Mister Wang."

"I told you—Yao is fine."

"Yes, Mist—I mean, Yao." Matthew looked past his shoulder with a frown. "Eh, where did you find him?"

"I bumped into him while getting my sad excuse for lunch."

"That's… interesting?"

"Indeed, aru. Well, I have some work to do in my office. Would you also mind keeping an eye on him? I don't want him harassing anybody or touching things or just doing anything unnecessary. He knocked down some old lady on the way here, and a repeat offense is something I don't need. Oh, and keep other people that work here _away_ from him, aru. If anybody asks, he's my friend from Moscow who doesn't know how to speak English. I gave him a lecture, so he _should_ be fine. Emphasis on the 'should'."

"Yes, Yao."

"Thank you, aru."

---

The paperwork seemed to have doubled while he was out, but he set half of it aside to do tomorrow. During breaks, Yao had also tried to look up Ivan on the computer and even toyed with the idea of calling the Russian Embassy to see if he was a missing translator or something. Unfortunately, it was all for naught. Neither Prince Ivan The Brave nor Ivan Braginski got any hits that would have been useful. It was as if this guy never existed. Thankfully, there wasn't _too_ much paperwork and he didn't waste a lot of time messing around on the computer, so the lawyer was able to leave at his usual time. Yao still had to find Ivan a place to some food and a place to stay, because he wasn't too keen on the idea of offering either of those.

He left his office only to find the prince tapping the glass of the fish tank in the lobby and the receptionist watching him warily. Fortunately, Arthur was nowhere to be seen.

"I couldn't find _anything_ on him!" Matthew confessed, embarrassed. "I even called every travel agency I could to see if there's anywhere that's based off of the Soviet Union or if he used to work at a Russian museum or something… I'm so sorry, eh."

"No, I know, aru," Yao sighed. "I tried looking him up, too. I don't know if he's going by an alias or something… Do you think the Russian Embassy could help?"

"I wouldn't imagine so," the Canadian replied, shaking his head. "I even called the police station to see if anybody had reported him missing!"

"Police station? That's a good idea, aru. I'll just take him there."

"No, you can't do that! He's nice!"

"Nice?"

"Well, Arthur and I spoke to him for a bit, and he talked about his 'beautiful older sister' a lot… And then I introduced him to Francis—"

"_Why_ would you do that?"

"Come on, Yao! Francis wouldn't tell anybody, eh… Besides, why can't you just let him stay at your house? What if he really is a prince?"

"Just because he says he is one doesn't really mean he is, aru. He's just a very confused man or someone who thinks this a way to get their sick kicks. Why do you believe him, anyway?"

"Eh? Well, Arthur does—"

"Listen, as much as I like Arthur and I hate talking about him behind his back, he also thinks he can talk to _fairies_, aru."

"Arthur's always been a little… out there."

"That's it—I'm going home. Here." Yao grabbed his coat from off of the chair, pulled out his wallet, and took a fifty-dollar bill from it. Matthew, more so than normally, seemed confused. "Just give this to Ivan, okay? Tell him he can do whatever he wants with it. Buy some food, rent a hotel room, take a bus back to wherever he came from, I don't care. This is all too confusing and I honestly do _not_ feel like dealing with it, aru."

"Yao… would you really leave someone like him on the streets?"

"If you love him so much, why don't you take him home and he can be your and Francis's new pet or something?"

"No!" For about the first time in his entire life, Matthew defended both himself and someone else. "Yao, this isn't like you! You're always so calm and nice and patient… Why can't you just look after him for a bit, eh? He's really sweet, even if he is possibly one of the scariest people I've ever met. He even told me he thinks you're the prettiest and kindest fairest maiden he's ever met."

"He said that to you, aru?"

"Of course he did. The only topics of conversation were where he used to live, his sister, and you."

Yao didn't need to know that Matthew was exaggerating, if only a little bit.

"W-Well," Yao coughed. Maybe he'd let Ivan stay with him. After all, the prince had a childish and bright personality he couldn't help but be attracted to. Besides, if Ivan liked him and needed a place to stay, then it would be utterly rude and coldhearted to kick him out on the streets. It was weird how his opinion could be swayed with only a glance in Ivan's direction and a few flattering words. Matthew looked at him hopefully. "_Fine_. He's allowed to stay, aru. Only for tonight! Tomorrow, we really need to figure out where he's from and who he is really is."

"But… tomorrow's Sunday… and I took off."

"Not anymore." Yao tapped the receptionist's phone. "You call Tino and tell him he's no longer needed to take your shift, okay? The less people that get involved in this mess, the better, aru."

"But… I took the day off because I have an important date…"

"Reschedule."

"I can't just reschedule a date with Francis… He said we're going somewhere fancy…"

"Err…" Yao looked at the nametag again. "Matthew, please? I really need you, aru."

"F-Fine."

"Thank you _so_ much, Matthew! Really, this means a lot to me!"

"Eh, I sure hope so… I'm canceling my date for you."

"No, _rescheduling_, aru. If Francis asks, I didn't ask you to. Arthur did."

"But he didn't…"

"But Francis doesn't know that, does he? Besides, those two already hate each other, so it's not like this incident will do any more damage. Anyway, I'll see you tomorrow. Thank you very much!" Yao walked over and grabbed Ivan's elbow. "Time to go home, aru."

"Home?" Ivan asked.

"… My house," Yao clarified. "Not ours."

"Da, whatever you say!" Ivan cheered.

"Let's just go, aru."

---

Someone he didn't know was on his couch. A _stranger_ was on _his_ couch, cuddling up to Kiku and about to fall asleep while holding a cat. Not only did Yao find it an invasion of privacy by both this cat-loving stranger and Kiku, who didn't even live with him anymore, but he also found it to be odd when a look of chagrined recognition dawned on Ivan's face. Yong Soo was sitting on the chair smugly with arms crossed. Yao ignored the way Hong was perched uncomfortably in his lap. Well, at least they weren't doing anything totally inappropriate.

"Who… is that?" Kiku asked with a blank glance in Ivan's direction.

"I could ask you the same thing, aru," Yao said, raising an eyebrow. "What are you even _doing_ here?"

Kiku had left the apartment years ago when Yao deemed that culinary school wasn't a real education. He still felt bad about trying to hold Kiku back from living his dreams, but Yao was the one who'd given up everything he ever wanted to do and decided to study for a job that would make him a pretty penny and let him be able to support both his brothers. Instead of respecting Yao's wishes, going to college, and getting a _real_ job, Kiku left to pursue his own fantasy of becoming a chef. If anything, the lawyer was more than a little upset that Kiku had achieved his goal, while he was still stuck doing a job he hated. Needless to say Yao wasn't very pleased to find the Japanese brother in his apartment, uninvited by him.

"I found this person," Kiku answered, gesturing to the cat-lover sitting next to him.

"And you decided to bring him here?" Yao asked. "Why?"

"Yong Soo told me you found a prince, too."

"Oh, he did, aru?"

Yong Soo shrunk back in his seat at the lawyer's glare.

"Yes," the middle brother said stoically. "This is apparently Prince Heracles Karpusi of the kingdom of Greece."

"Good for him." Yao mimicked Yong Soo's position and crossed his arms defiantly. It really wasn't becoming for a lawyer to act so puerile, but he didn't care. "This is Prince Ivan The Brave of the kingdom of the Soviet Union."

"Hello," Heracles said.

Ivan nodded.

"Yong Soo says they're from that one fairytale you told him," Kiku continued.

"Don't tell me _you_ believe that, too?" Yao sighed.

"How else would you explain the fact that I found a cat-loving prince?"

"I don't know, and honestly, I don't really care, aru."

* * *

**A/N**: Just to clarify, I love Kiku. I really hate making him so hate-able. If you're wondering why Yao is so bitter, there you go. Stuck doing a crappy job only to make money and abandoned by the brother he got it in order to support. I'd blabber on about more, but I don't have anything to say. Oh, wait--Yes, I do. Has anybody heard that song 'There's No Penguins in Alaska' by Chiodos? Yeah, my friend likes that song, and made me listen to it. I thought that yeah, maybe it'd send a nice message about global warming.

Nope.

I believe part of it goes: "I'll stop stabbing when you stop screaming." No offense to you if you like that song or band, it's just that it's not really my bag.

R&R


	5. Chapter IV

**A/N**: I love Sweden/Finland too much for them not to be in here. So, they are later on this page. Also, introducing Germany/N. Italy here.

* * *

Kiku stared at him with those big, impassive brown eyes and Yao sighed, dropping his defensive stance. Kiku could always make him feel bad in about two seconds flat without even having to do anything. Ivan, though, did not look relaxed in the slightest. In fact, he seemed a little peeved about the presence of Heracles. The smile on his face looked strained and forced. However, a knock on the door startled them all. Yao looked at both Yong Soo and Kiku with an eyebrow raised.

"I didn't invite anybody," the Japanese answered the silent question.

"Me either," Yong Soo voiced. "Hong is already here."

"Maybe it's _another_ prince?" Yao said sarcastically and rolled his eyes. He pulled the door open. The very Italian neighbor waved, greeted him loudly, and entered the apartment without agreement from Yao, dragging a very confused tall and muscular blonde with him. The lawyer noticed the way Ivan's mouth quirked downward for a second at the sight of the new blonde and the way the other glared at him for a moment. Oh, god. Was Yao right? "Don't tell me _you_ found a prince, too, Feliciano."

"Ve, how did you know?!" Feliciano gasped, and hugged the person in tow. Said person looked a tad bit uncomfortable with the Italian's touchy-feely nature. "This is my prince charming!"

"Seems as if your deduction skills are up to par, mister lawyer," Yong Soo joked, and gave him a thumb up.

"Not a time for jokes, aru," Yao said sternly. "Okay, who are _you_?"

"Prince Ludwig The Proud of the kingdom of Germany," the blonde introduced himself. "Ludwig Beilschmidt."

"_Proud_," Ivan restated with a sneer. "Too proud, if I may say so myself. And I do. Surely, you jest!"

"I do not," Ludwig replied. He reached for what Yao assumed to be a sword attached to his side.

"Whoa, whoa! Let's not get homicidal here, aru!" the lawyer said frantically, and slapped Ivan's hand away from the table in the room when he saw the prince reaching for the metal pipe. "There's absolutely no need to draw swords on each other or whatever weapon, and especially not in my apartment."

"Da. This world is peaceful," Ivan said in agreement. "Let us keep it that way, Ludwig. Or are you still that sore over losing? One war after another was not a smart idea, but did you think of that? No. You did not."

"It wasn't my fault."

"Da, it wasn't, but you were still part of it."

"You wouldn't have won without America, anyway."

"No, no, you are saying it wrong, stupid German. _America_ would not have won without _us_, da?"

"I—"

"Possibly another metal pipe to your head will put you in your rightful place at the bottom? I am surprised you managed to survive the first one, as I am sure I was swinging my hardest."

Ludwig wisely kept his mouth shut.

"And I didn't ally with Italy," Ivan added. "Da, Romano never knew how to keep his mouth shut under pressure… The fact he hated you was just an added bonus."

"Ve, don't badmouth Italy!" Feliciano whined. "That's where my grandfather and I are from!"

"_What_ are you guys talking about?" Yao asked, extremely befuddled.

"He's sore because he lost," Ivan told him. "Twice in a row."

"The first war wasn't even mostly our fault," Ludwig argued calmly.

"… Are you talking about the world wars?" Kiku asked from his spot on the couch.

"You mean the kingdom wars," Ivan corrected him.

"The _kingdom wars_?" Yao repeated, incredulous. He held up his hands in utter disbelief. "Hold up. So, what's-his-name German over here is also from this story I made up, aru? And in this make believe story world, you guys have kingdoms named Germany and Italy? And America? And between your kingdoms, you had two wars you call the kingdom wars?"

"There are many more kingdoms," the Soviet said. "England, France, Switzerland, Poland… Da, many more. We've had two major wars that involved all the kingdoms in the world. Ludwig started and lost both of them."

"I, personally, did not start them," Ludwig clarified. "Nor did I singlehandedly lose them."

"This is very, very weird, aru," Yao said, shaking his head.

"Good choice of vocabulary," Yong Soo laughed. He shut up at Yao's glare. "So, maybe that's their world's version of our world wars?"

"Why are you talking about worlds, as in plural? There is one world, Yong Soo, aru! _One_!" the lawyer shouted. "These people are all delusional freaks who either A, escaped from the circus, or B, have serious mental issues that need to be treated with legitimate medication. And all of you are just as crazy for believing them!" He tugged at his hair in frustration. "They're based off of a story I made up when I was _eighteen_. That was _ten_ years ago, aru! I don't how they got that information, and I'm not keen on finding out, but all I know is that this is insane!"

"Maybe Yao should take a minute to calm down?" Ivan suggested, and put a hand on the Chinese lawyer's shoulder that was promptly shaken off.

"_I_ am supposed to calm down? How can I calm down when there are people I created on Yong Soo's stupid request ten years ago inhabiting my apartment, aru?! If anything, I am the epitome of the world 'calm'!" He looked at Ludwig. "You! I didn't even make you up!" He then stared at Feliciano. "And what are you doing here, aru?!"

"But… I knocked, like you told me to," Feliciano muttered, downtrodden. "You let me in, ve."

"I… wasn't aware I was fictional," Ludwig stated, eyebrows furrowed.

"You know what—everybody be quiet for a moment. Stop everything." The lawyer took a deep breath. "Before I say anything, I would like to apologize for my outburst. For right now, aru, let's think about this rationally. These people had to have come from somewhere, and there has to be a plausible explanation. But for right now, this present time, aru—Yes, let's all lose our sanity and pretend they came from my make believe world."

"I don't see how my theory isn't plausible," Yong Soo said.

"Yong Soo? Do us all a favor and say absolutely nothing, aru."

"But—"

"Either be quiet or I'm kicking you out."

"But I _live_ here."

"Pack up your stuff and live in the hallway, then. Or better yet, aru, go buy yourself a place where you can rape Hong daily and spare my eyes from the images that haunt me while I sleep." Yong Soo opened his mouth to retort, but Yao cut him off from saying anything to embarrass Hong even more than he had. "So far, three 'princes'," here, he added air quotes, "have randomly shown up on the same day. As much as I hate to admit it, there could possibly be more, aru."

"More?" Kiku asked.

"More," Yao said with a nod. "I don't suggest we go looking for them, though."

"Ve, why not?" Feliciano asked.

"Number one, it's late." He checked his watch. "Around seven at night, aru. And secondly, chances are they're already out and wandering around the city."

"What if they get murdered?!"

"… Well, if we went looking for them now, too, we might also get murdered, aru. And that wouldn't help anyone in the long run, now would it?"

"I'd never let anyone kill my fairest maiden!" Ivan piped up.

"You… can keep your opinions to yourself for right now, if you want," the lawyer muttered, infinitely humiliated by being called the 'fairest maiden' in front of the remaining members of his family, two strangers, and his neighbor.

"Da," Ivan replied cheerfully.

"Well," Kiku began, "going along with your theory that there might be more, the possibility is high that someone else has already found them."

"What do you mean, aru?" Yao questioned.

"I found a cat-loving boy, like the one Yong Soo… um, paired me up with in the story. You found Prince Ivan, as you did in the story, too. Even though Ludwig was not mentioned, he was found by Feliciano. They've all been stumbled upon by the person they're destined to be… friends with."

"Really, _really_ good friends," Yong Soo clarified.

"No, I don't think so…" Yao sighed.

"Well, _I_ invited the story, so I'm right!"

Yao sighed again, this one heavier than the last. Why didn't anybody listen to him? They were all crazy for believing the three princes actually came from his made up la la land. Yao was, quite obviously, the only somewhat sane one in the room. That was another quality for why he made such a good lawyer—he was always right, but usually ignored. Especially by Yong Soo. He checked his watch again. Seven fifteen. Well, it was late enough for it to be an excuse to force everyone out of his apartment in a polite fashion.

"It's getting late, aru!" he stated loudly, above all the room's commotion. "I think everyone needs to go home!"

"Do I really have to sleep in the hallway?!" Yong Soo complained.

"No, Yong Soo…"

"Can Hong stay over?!"

"No, Yong Soo!"

"Aww, why not?!"

"I'd rather not have my sleep disturbed, aru. Do you know how thin these walls are? It's almost painful having to listen to your nightly… sexcapades."

"Ve, tell me about it!" Feliciano gabbed on his way out the door, being herded by the sensible German. Yao grabbed Ivan's arm and kept a grip on it to make sure the prince didn't attempt to reach for the metal pipe again. Even though he could probably rip off Yao's arm in one go, the lawyer was determined to make sure Ludwig fled his apartment safely. "My grandpa and his weird, emotionless, surprisingly not a girl, blonde friend always played games at night without me!"

"That's wonderful," the German commented, his voice sounding anything but interested. "Good-bye, Mister…"

"Yao Wang, but please, call me Yao," the lawyer said amicably. "It was nice meeting you, Ludwig."

"You too."

With that final sentence, Ludwig shoved Feliciano out the door and followed suit.

Yao now waited for Kiku to get up and leave. He wasn't invited in the first place, and more than anything in that moment, Yao wanted him to disappear. He loved his brother, yes, but sometimes it hurt to look at him. His grip tightened on Ivan's arm, and in response, the Soviet gave him one of his trademark childish smiles. Kiku made the move to stand up from the couch and Heracles followed him like a lost puppy. Or, more accurately, a lost cat. Even on the way out, the most Yao got in the acknowledgement department was a farewell nod and a quiet 'thank you'.

At least Heracles had _some_ respect and politely said, "have a good night," albeit in a sleepy tone.

Yong Soo was the first the break the silence that followed.

"What do we do now?" he asked.

"I'm going home," Hong said, pushing himself up off of the Korean's lap.

"How come he can't stay, Yao?" Yong Soo asked.

"You're more than welcome to leave here and go stay with him," Yao offered.

"Can I?" the Korean asked gleefully.

Hong nodded, expressionless as usual and was then tugged out of the apartment by his boyfriend. Or whatever they were. Yao would have to ask them later.

"So now it is just us, da?" Ivan asked.

"Just us, aru," Yao affirmed.

"… As Yong Soo said, what do we do now?"

"I'm going to make dinner, aru. You're going to eat with me and spend the night. You may have Yong Soo's bed if the couch is not to your satisfaction. Though, tell me one thing, aru. You're not really some crazy axe murderer is disguise, are you?"

"No, no! The only person who is an axe murderer is my friend Denmark of the kingdom of the Nordics, and he uses it more to kill animals than people, anyway."

"That's… reassuring. Well, you're staying the night, aru."

"Da!"

---

Thankfully, Ivan didn't mind Chinese food for dinner (_not_ take-out. When Yong Soo had suggested they get take-out, Yao was more insulted than he had ever been) and rather liked the couch more than Yong Soo's bed. Yao supposed the thoughts of what had happened on that bed with another person, namely Hong, disturbed the Soviet enough to sleep on the uncomfortable excuse for a piece of furniture. The lawyer unfortunately didn't have any clothes big enough to lend Ivan, so the other was forced to spend a night wearing his uniform.

Yao's morning routine consisted of waking up early, taking a relaxing bath, and eating a filling breakfast. It was undoubtedly ruined by Ivan somehow managing to open a locked door and taking a step into bathroom while Yao was occupying the bathtub. Ludwig showed up at the door later and asked about the loud, girly shrieking that had woken him up. Needless to say it didn't turn out to be a very good morning.

"Sorry, Yao," Ivan apologized over breakfast.

"Doors are locked for a reason, aru," Yao answered, keeping his eyes trained on his cereal. He couldn't look Ivan in the face after the bathroom fiasco. "Just… let's try to forget about it."

"Da… Am I coming to work with you?"

"Do you want to?"

"Da."

"Then you can come, aru."

They embarked on another walk to the firm and the prince still achieved a couple more offenses. Yao wondered if either the people didn't see him walking toward them or if maybe knocking down city slickers was one of his hobbies. Of course, as soon as they entered the building, it wasn't Matthew who greeted them, but Tino. The blonde stopped his conversation with Berwald to wave enthusiastically at Yao and greet him warmly.

"Wow!" he said, looking at Ivan. Berwald also looked at Ivan, but with that usually apathetic stare of his. "Gee, Yao, I didn't know that kind of guy was your type…"

"… What?" Yao asked.

"What's his name?" Tino asked. "He's really handsome!"

Berwald did not look amused.

"I am Ivan Braginski!" Ivan said proudly. Tino nodded. "You think I'm handsome? Thank you, da!"

"I didn't know you like Russians! I would have thought you'd be more into Asians…" Tino mused. "But, well, to each their own. I mean, Berwald and I—"

"No, no, whatever you're assuming about us is _wrong_," Yao defended himself quickly. "Ivan is _just_ my… err, friend, aru."

"Yeah, and I'm his wife," Tino said sarcastically, pointing at Berwald.

"But—" the bespectacled Swede protested.

"I'm not your wife, Berwald." The Finn rolled his eyes. "So, does he speak Russian?"

"Enough that he really doesn't know English, so…" Yao explained.

"So, is it foreign guys or just Russians?"

"There's _nothing_ between us."

"Hey, it's okay! If it makes you feel any better, I like tall guys, too."

"… Obviously."

"I 'nly l'ke Tino," Berwald put in.

"Okay, I'm going to go to my office because I'm not a big fan of public displays of affection, aru," Yao said. "If anybody Spanish asks for me, page me and I'll meet them out here. Alright, Tino?"

"Yes, Yao!" Tino replied, smiling.

"By the way… why isn't the other receptionist here?"

"Oh! Matthew said he couldn't cancel with Francis. He wanted me to tell you he's sorry."

"It's fine. I'll just do everything myself, aru, like always. I'll see you later."

"Okay! Bye!"

* * *

**A/N**: Well, if Spain is coming in the next chapter, through reasoning, you can guess who is _also_ in the next chapter. Also, did you catch Denmark? :D I love him. I don't know how many of you are fans of Denmark/Norway, but I am.

Question: What is your favorite OTP? Out of _anything_, not just Hetalia. But if it a Hetalia pairing, then that's cool. (Just don't say anything Twilight. I abhor Edward Cullen.)

Hope you enjoyed this chapter! :)

R&R


	6. Chapter V

**A/N**: Thank you for staying with me and supporting me with this so far. It means a lot to me. If you spot any typos, please point them out. I try to go through and find them, but I'm only human. Thank you.

* * *

Fascinated.

That was the only word Yao could use to describe Ivan as he prowled about his office, touching nearly everything in sight, which included a certain British lawyer named Arthur who had stopped by to say hello earlier. Upon being marveled over by the prince, he suddenly had urgent matters to attend to. Yao really wanted to call him out on his lie, but when feeling threatened, Arthur could run away faster than a gazelle with its life on the line. Yao tried to ignore the uprising headache as Ivan messed around with his penholder, taking out about every single pen and admiring it.

"Haven't you ever seen _pens_ before, aru?" the lawyer hissed.

"Da, but not like these," Ivan replied. "Look! This one is pink and has pictures of cats on it!"

"That's a private pen!" Yao growled, snatching his pen from Ivan. Nobody touched his Hello Kitty pen without clear authorization, or else. Besides, it was a pretty embarrassing pen to own, and he didn't necessarily want anyone to find out he had one. The prince didn't seem deterred by his momentarily hostile behavior and then decided to sift through the lawyer's notebook of appointments and future engagements. Yao sighed, placing his face in his hands. Ivan was making it virtually impossible to do any work with the way he went about and felt everything. He'd tried to feel Yao a moment ago, because apparently he was 'pretty', but Yao was just about as off-limits as his Hello Kitty pen.

And that was pretty off-limits.

"Who is… Roderich Edelstein?" Ivan attempted to ask, but his heavy 'Soviet' accent basically butchered the nice, Austrian name. "And Elizabeta… I can't pronounce her last name."

"Two people I work with," Yao said, and snatched the book back from Ivan.

"What is your job?"

"I thought I told you, aru?" At Ivan's blank stare, he guessed he had assumed wrong. "I'm a divorce lawyer."

"Divorce? What's that?"

"You know, _divorce_?"

"If I knew, would I be asking?"

"… Right, aru. Divorce is the legal dissolution of marriage by a court or other competent person."

"I still do not know what you are talking about."

"Okay, picture this; two people are married, but they've come to realize there are unsolvable obstacles in their path to wedded bliss. In simpler terms, they thought they liked each other, aru, but they really don't. But they only realize that until after they're married. They want to separate from each other. Forever, aru. No longer be married." Yao shrugged. "That's divorce."

"… Oh." Ivan frowned, or at least as much as he could. "That sounds bad. Do people do it a lot?"

"Enough that I'm making lots of money, aru." Yao leaned forward on the desk much like a businessman trying to explain something to his inferior. "Well, let's see… It's estimated that about forty percent of all marriages have ended in divorce as of 2008. People are marrying young and 'out of love', or whatever sorry excuse they have. It's not working out for them, and then they come crying to me, aru. It's tedious work, and rather infuriating, but I'd rather be a divorce lawyer than a bum who can't provide for their brother, aru. I can pay for Yong Soo to go to school and finish college. It's fine."

"Da, that is fine and all, but are you happy?"

"I'm sorry, what?" Yao used as his default answer, because if he weren't practiced and tight-lipped, the word 'no' would have surely come tumbling from his mouth like water down Niagara Falls. "What do you mean?" Sidestepping questions had always been one of Yao's favorite things to do and remarkable skills.

"I asked if you're happy." Ivan gestured to the room. "Being here. Divorcing people. It certainly sounds like you do not enjoy it one bit."

"I said that I don't mind it, aru."

"That does not answer the question."

"I'm satisfied with my life."

"You seem adamant on dropping the subject. Okay, I will play along, but only because you are so unwilling to answer honestly."

"I'm sure you have your problems, too, aru. Skeletons in the closet, you know." Just to look busy and not give all his attention to their conversation, Yao picked up a few loose pieces of paper from the top of his desk and began to review them. He watched over the top of the paper as Ivan contemplated the sentiment for a moment, a pensive look on his face. Yao waited for an answer, or some form of reply, but none came. Ivan was done talking, and resumed his messing around with the lawyer's things.

A shrill ringing sound cut through the tension in his office.

"What's this?" Ivan asked automatically, and reached out to pick up the phone. He picked it up off of the base before Yao could stop him. "What does it do?"

"Give me it, aru!" Yao demanded, holding out his hand.

"No, I do not think I will!" Ivan replied deviously, a smile on his face. "What is it?"

"It's a phone, and I need it! It could be someone important!" Yao said, continuing to make grabbing motions for the phone.

"You want it?" Ivan held the phone high in the air, and most definitely out of his reach. "Da, you must jump for it, Yao!"

"That is so childish, aru!" Yao huffed.

_"… Hello?"_ Tino's voice crackled from the phone. _"What's going on?"_

"Ivan has the phone!" Yao shouted, hopefully loud enough that Tino could hear.

_"Oh!" _Tino didn't seem to mind. _"Hello, Ivan!"_

"Hi!" Ivan said into the receiver. Yao decided not to mention he was speaking into the wrong end. He would just have to figure it out for himself. "What are you doing inside this… phone?"

_"I'll tell you later. Will you please give it to Yao? I have an important message for him."_

"Da."

Ivan reluctantly held the phone out the lawyer in question, who snatched it out of his hand irately.

"I'm sorry about that," Yao apologized quickly.

_"It's fine! Totally fine!" _Tino laughed. _"A certain Mister Carriedo is here to see you."_

"Ah, thank you, aru."

_"By the way, you guys aren't __**doing**__ anything, are you? Not each other? Arthur yelled at me about 'proper work conduct' for about an hour when he caught me and Berwald—"_

Yao promptly hung up.

---

_To Yao:_

_ Out feeding Hanatamago~!! Be back later~ :) Oh, and don't tell Arthur that I'm gone, m'kay? Not in the mood to have some British guy yell at me. (Again…) Thanks! I owe you one!_

_ P.S. Berwald is with me, so I won't be back for a long, long time… Three hours, maybe__… Something else came up, too, so. Yeah!_

_-Tino_

Yao sighed, crumpling the note he found on the reception desk in his hands and tossing it into the wastebasket. He didn't ever want to find out what 'feeding Hanatamgo' was code for, but the additional note at the bottom was pretty much like a slap in the face. And that pun in the last second to last sentence was so blatant it was almost funny. Almost. Yes, Tino really did owe him one now, especially since the day hadn't really started. It was only half past eleven, and Yao knew that Tino went out for lunch at twelve. Great, now Yao was left to cover his ass.

"Is something wrong, señor?" an amicable voice said from behind him. Yao jumped at the sudden sound, and he saw Ivan instinctively reach at his side, only to be disappointed by the missing metal pipe. "Ah, lo siento! I'm sorry! I didn't mean to scare you."

"No, it's quite alright, aru," Yao said, exhaling in relief when he turned around only to find a fellow lawyer and another with him. "Oh, do you have a partner?"

"No. I'm quite single," the other joked. Yao frowned, and the other hurriedly tried to cover up their lame attempt at humor. "My name is Antonio Fernandez Carriedo. Much gusto. Pleasure to meet you…"

"Yao Wang, but please, call me Yao. And this is my friend, Ivan, aru. He's from Moscow and doesn't speak English, so…"

"Really?" Antonio looked at him in slight disbelief. "Francis es mi amigo, is my friend, and he said you found someone from the Soviet Union? Would Ivan happen to be him?"

"Damn," Yao cussed underneath his breath. Francis was a lawyer, or so he claimed, and lawyers were supposed to know how and when to keep their mouth shut. The Chinese man was so going to chew him out later. Or, better yet, set Arthur on him. "No, no, you have it all wrong. Everyone thinks he's a prince from the Soviet Union, aru, but I'm sure you know as well as I do that that's only wishful thinking."

"Hmm," Antonio muttered, scratching the back of his neck before turning to the person with him. "Why don't you introduce yourself?"

"No fucking way!" the person hissed, hiding behind Antonio a bit more.

Ivan smiled and waved upon hearing the person's voice, and the other completely disappeared from view, concealed by the Spanish lawyer.

"He's, ah, a little temperamental," Antonio apologized.

"You're an idiot," the other said.

Antonio chuckled. Yao didn't get what was so funny.

"Come on, say hello!"

"No! I know that guy!"

"I am not deaf," Ivan pointed out. "I hear you."

"See? You're doing nothing," Antonio said, and pulled the person out from behind him.

Yao stared.

It was like he was a replica of Feliciano.

"Do you know anyone named Feliciano, aru?" Yao asked.

"Who the fuck is that?" the person replied, snorting.

Well, that answered that. Yao decided it would be best to mostly ignore him.

"I am Prince Romano Vargas of the kingdom of Italy," he said haughtily, crossing his arms.

"… Oh, you're _kidding_ me!" Yao yelled, throwing his hands up in the air. "_Another_ one?! Where is everyone spawning from, aru?!"

"This is what I wanted to speak with you about," Antonio said. "I thought you might be able to help…"

"I thought you wanted to speak with me about Roderich and Elizabeta?" Yao asked.

"Do you _see_ them anywhere?" Romano sneered.

"Wow, you are exactly how I remember you!" Ivan said cheerfully.

"Gee, _thanks_."

"I never said that was a compliment, da."

"… I'm ignoring you."

"Da, you may. I do not mind."

"Okay, aru," Yao sighed, holding up his hand. "Let's speak privately in my office. It's a long story…"

---

"… A fairytale you made up?" Antonio shook his head in disbelief, but an amused smile was on his face and he started muttering astonished phrases in Spanish. Yao resisted the urge to slam his head on his desk. Even the Spaniard looked like he regarded what was previously told to him as the truth. It was honestly hard to believe everyone Yao had come into contact with was this _stupid_. Maybe it was a virus going on, and he was the only impervious to it. God knew Yong Soo must have had it his entire life the stupid virus was real, because it would have explained _a lot_. "Ivan is from the _Soviet Union_?"

"I wasn't a creative teenager," Yao admitted. "Another reason why I'm a lawyer."

"Still. The _Soviet Union_," Antonio replied, barely holding back a laugh.

"Ha, yes, it's _so_ funny, aru," Yao commented dryly, rolling his eyes. "I'm about to drown in the metaphorical pool of humor."

"Whoa! Loosen up, amigo!" The other cracked a smile. "You are much too prim. Whatever happened to the saying 'all play, and no work'?"

"… You have that backwards."

"If you are looking at it from a stuffy perspective, sí, I am wrong. But if you are looking at it through a devil-may-care perspective, it's the other way around! It's always much more fun to do nothing and be entertained than to be bored while concentrating on everything."

"Look, my lack of an easygoing attitude isn't the matter at hand right now. The problem is that you also found a 'prince', aru. Where did you find him? So far, the pattern is that they've all popped up from Central Park."

"Sí! I found him in Central Park fighting with an elderly woman about feeding pigeons. He was losing." Romano elbowed him. "Ay! Why?!"

"You deserved it, bastard!" Romano growled. "Okay, just to clarify, I was not losing. She just took her stupid bird feed and _threw it at_ _me_. Do you know how much that damn bag of pigeon shit weighs? I swear to God, if I ever see her again, I am _so_ throwing some at her and I'll see how she likes it. Fucking old ladies. I hate old people."

"Whatever happened to 'respect your elders'?" Yao muttered.

Antonio shrugged, then continued, "Do you know any way to send them back?"

"Are you trying to get rid of me?!" the prince of Italy squawked indignantly.

"No, no! When did I ever say that?!" Antonio said hurriedly. "I said no such thing!"

"… Back the situation at hand," Yao said, trying to get their attention back on track. He made sure to keep watch of Ivan out of the corner of his eye as the prince of the Soviet Union continued to plunder his office and stick whatever seemed appealing into his coat pocket. Yap slapped Ivan's hand as it neared a packet of post-it notes. "Don't take others' things, aru!"

"Da!" Ivan replied, but showed no other indication of hearing.

"Dear God," Yao sighed, sinking lower in his seat. "Kill me now."

"It's not so bad!" Antonio tried to assure him.

"Da, not bad at all!" Ivan agreed, nodding.

"Fine. Whatever, aru." Yao sat back up in his seat. "Listen, Antonio, I don't know what to do, okay? Honestly, I still think this is some sort of carefully planned ruse and that they're all secretly part of a mafia trying to eradicate people who aren't American. Which is why Ivan is with me, a Chinese immigrant, and why Romano is with you, a Spaniard, aru. And even my Japanese brother has his own prince, and my neighbor, who is Italian in decent. See? It's a conspiracy. I sense subterfuge, but will anybody listen, aru? _No_. Nobody listens to me!"

"I listen!" Ivan said.

"That's great, aru," Yao said back bitingly. Ivan didn't notice the tone of his voice, and smiled.

"Well, it's because you are wrong, amigo!" Antonio said, also grinning. His grin was like a sticker slapped on his face that no amount of scratching and peeling could remove. It annoyed Yao to no end. The Chinese lawyer considered himself a regularly optimistic person, but really, how could anyone be so damn happy _all the time_? "They are from your make believe land, claro que! Of course!"

"And somehow you got through law school. This country's educational system is a joke," Yao murmured to himself. There was no indication on the Spaniard's face that he had heard. "You can believe that if you want, aru. By all means, please do. I don't believe it because it's _not true_, but hey, I can't change everyone's opinion."

"Ah," Antonio sighed, shaking his head. "Just accept the simple truth! It saves you a major headache!"

"Fairytales aren't real, aru."

How old was this guy? _Five_?

Thankfully, before Yao could say another thing, his desk phone rang again.

* * *

**A/N**: Thank you very much for reading. Really, I love you all. It means so much to me; you don't really understand how great you all are. It's so wonderful just being praised by people I don't know over something I wrote (since writing has never been my strong point) and nicely criticized by people who think/know they can help me to improve my writing. It's all so great. No personal issues should collide with the completion of this story, as they did with my other RoChu fic. So... this should be better.

Thank you all.

On a lighter note: Do any of you watch Psych?

R&R


	7. Chapter VI

**A/N**: I can feel the love, guys :) Keep it coming. If you spot any typos, please, point them out. Once again, I'm only human--and not to mention that it's _pretty_ late where I am, soooo... yeah.

* * *

"I'll answer it!" Ivan called, and grabbed the phone before Yao could slap his hand away. "Hello?" Yao couldn't hear what was being said on the other line, and instead of trying to listen, the lawyer leaned back in his chair and covered his face with his hands. "No, this is Ivan… No, Yao is busy right now… Oh, he's busy with Antonio and my friend Romano, da… No, no, not like that… Oh, you didn't mean it like that? Sorry… Da, I can take a message… Oh?… Da, I know him! Wow, you found him?! That is wonderful! Tell him I say hello! May I talk to him?… No? Okay… Oh, you want to speak to Yao? I said he is very busy at the moment, da… Fine, I will ask him." Ivan turned to Yao. "Even though you are busy, Arthur is asking to speak with you. He found my friend!"

"Please, for the love of God, tell me you're kidding," Yao muttered.

"I do not joke!" Ivan said, shaking his head. "Are you too busy to speak with Arthur?"

"Do you mind, aru?" Yao asked Antonio.

"Go on ahead," the Spaniard replied with a shrug and a sunny smile.

"Yeah, I'll talk to him," Yao said. Ivan handed him the phone slowly, as if he did not want to give it up. In the end, the Chinese man had to forcefully pry it from his strong grip. "Hello?"

_"I suppose you heard I found a friend of Ivan's?"_ Arthur's voice reached him. There was some scuffling on the other end. _"Damn it, could you hold on one moment?" _There was a lot of shouting, and then laughter from a voice Yao couldn't recognize. _"What the bloody hell are you doing?!"_

"… Working, aru? Like what you should be doing right now?"

_"Not you, Yao. Sorry."_

"It's, uh, fine."

_"No, really, my apologies."_

"I said it's fine, aru. Where are you?"

_"Leaving Central Park."_

"I thought so. What are you even doing there?"

_"I was trying to get some fresh air and relax for a while, as it is Sunday, when I found some __**idiot**__ trying to kill street performers with a sword." _A pause. _"What do you mean they were threatening you?! There is absolutely nothing threatening about people playing music for money! If they have a permit, it's not illegal! I don't care if it's illegal where you come from. It's legal here in __**America**__! What do you mean you're from America? How the hell are you from this country?"_

"There's a land called America where Ivan's from, aru."

_"Ah, thank you, Yao." _Another pause. _"You're not a hero, bloody git! You almost attacked innocent people! For the last time, it's not illegal here!"_

"… I can hear him, you know," Antonio offered.

"Antonio can hear you, Arthur," Yao sighed.

_"My apologies. This man just won't be quiet! Not even for one minute! And he keeps trying to wander off!"_

"Bring him back here," Yao instructed.

_"Yes, yes, I know. Give me a bit, all right? I should be back soon."_

"Okay."

_"Good-bye. Hey, that sign says 'don't touch'! That's—"_

"Bye, aru." Yao hung up the phone, no longer wanting to hear Arthur's loud voice and have his ear damaged further. Antonio raised an eyebrow, the universal symbol for 'explain'. Yao exhaled loudly and reclined in his seat once again. "My coworker, Arthur, found a friend of Ivan's."

"Really?" Romano leaned forward, interested. "Who did he find?"

"Alfred!" Ivan shouted. "He found Alfred!"

"Damn," Romano cussed. "Why couldn't he have found someone not retarded?"

"Heracles is here, too," Ivan told him. "Oh! And Ludwig."

"_Ludwig_?" Romano snorted. "I fucking hate that guy. What the hell is he doing here?"

"If I knew, I probably would have told you."

"You're funny. Yuck it up."

"Was I joking?"

"Go learn the definition of 'sarcasm'."

Romano huffed and crossed his arm and legs.

Antonio smiled at him, and then ducked when Romano's fist when flying toward his face.

Yao really wished that punch was aimed toward him.

---

"I'm Sir Alfred F. Jones from the land of America! I bet it's awesome for you to meet me!"

Yao stared.

And stared.

And stared.

"I-I'm sorry," Yao said, placing his hand in front of his mouth in order to stop the laugh threatening to escape him. Antonio, on the other hand, was holding nothing back. Arthur had managed to find himself a knight that looked like he walked right out of a storybook. Granted, Yao had found a Soviet wearing the something akin to the Red Army uniform, but still… Alfred was wearing shining armor and everything, and could probably be the perfect example of a medieval knight, if it weren't for the fact he was wearing twentieth century glasses. "This is too funny, aru. P-Please, excuse me."

"Funny?" Alfred repeated, a look of sadness on his face.

"So, he's a knight, Arthur?" Yao asked. "Does that make you his princess?"

"I'm a hero!" Alfred protested.

"Oh, so now we're in a humorous mood, are we?" Arthur growled, crossing his arms.

"Don't get swept off of your feet, aru."

"I'll try not to."

Arthur rolled his eyes.

"You do that a lot," Alfred commented.

"This isn't happening. This isn't happening," Yao told himself over and over again. Arthur frowned at the sound of amusement laced in the Chinese man's tone of voice. "This is great, aru. Where's a video camera when you need one? I wish Tino was here…"

"Ay dios mio!" Antonio laughed hysterically, patting an unimpressed Romano on the back. Romano looked like he was about two seconds away from trying to punch the Spaniard again, but at least this time, he had a good reason to. The Italian wasn't really finding the culture of a place in his world being laughed at uproarious. "Esto…! This…! Lo siento, I'm sorry, I need a moment to calm down."

"I don't get it," Alfred mumbled, eyes downcast.

"Idiot," Arthur grumbled, rolling his eyes.

"There you go again! What's with the eye rolling?" Alfred asked.

"Don't irritate the damsel in distress, Alfred," Yao said, attempting to stop himself from guffawing along with Antonio. He was failing, really. Both lawyers were almost in stitches. "He has that British humor, you know, aru. He doesn't find much funny."

"That's because this situation isn't comical at all!" Arthur shouted.

"No, it _is_, amigo," Antonio disagreed.

"I find nothing hilarious about this situation!" the British man hollered. "This is serious!"

"Arthur, I hate to break this to you, but this is a scream," Yao said.

"Stop it, you wankers!" Arthur said at top volume. Thankfully, they were the only ones occupying the common room, and no one else could hear them.

"Quiero sacar fotos," Antonio said, elbowing Yao. "¿Donde está una cámara?"

"I have no idea what you just said, aru," Yao said.

"Right," Antonio sighed. "Forget I said anything."

"Now that we've all settled down considerably," Arthur began, "let's take a moment and think about this."

"He's from my fairytale, of course," Yao explained with a shrug of his shoulders.

"¡Por supuesto!" Antonio reiterated for him.

"Of all people, I thought you would be the one to try and look at this rationally, Yao," Arthur said.

"When I found Ivan yesterday, aru, weren't you one of the people who agreed with Yong Soo's idiotic fairytale theory without a second thought?" the lawyer in question asked. "That's what I thought."

"I have no idea what you guys are talking about," Alfred put in. "Sorry."

"It's not your fault," Arthur sighed.

"You already have a soft spot for him, I see," Yao added.

"Bleeding hell! Would you kindly _shut up_?!"

"This is still funny."

"_How_?"

"Well, let's see, aru—you found a knight in shining armor. Quite literally. It's priceless."

"_You_ found a _prince_!"

"I did, as a matter of fact. But he's no knight in shining armor, aru. Is Alfred here to defend your honor or something? Make sure you don't get in the way of any safety hazards?"

"My 'honor' doesn't need 'protecting', damn it. I'll have you know I was quite the dangerous delinquent when I was a young ruffian."

"I'm sure, aru."

"It's true!"

"Yes, and when I was little, I was a girl."

"I can believe that."

"Oh, be quiet."

"All right, all right, let's handle this like adults," Antonio interrupted. "Yao, how many people have been found so far?"

"… In order of appearance, it's Ivan, Heracles, Ludwig, Romano, and now Alfred. That makes five."

"Do you think there could be more?"

"I'm not sure, aru. I certainly hope not."

"Ah…"

"Well, we'll just leave those details aside for right now. Where is Alfred going to stay, is the question. Arthur?"

"Why do _I_ have to take him home?" Arthur complained.

"_You_ found him, aru."

"What if he tries to steal my virtue or something?"

"I would never do that!" Alfred inveighed indignantly. "I am a hero, and heroes are righteous and chivalrous! Stealing someone's innocence is not something I would do! Unless you wanted me to, of course." At Arthur's surprised stare, he merely shrugged. "What? You're not ugly. The opposite, really."

"It's just the eyebrows," Romano said. "Are they real?"

"Jesus Christ! What is wrong with all of you?! I don't have time for this!" the British lawyer shouted, throwing his hands up in the air and storming off in the direction of his office. Alfred chased after him, shouting a chorus of 'wait's and 'hold on's.

Antonio, meanwhile, was still stuck on a certain part of the conversation.

"… He's still a virgin?" the Spaniard asked, turning to Yao.

"Don't ask me, aru!" Yao said, shaking his head. "Why should I know that? It's not like I've ever thought about someone deflowering him…"

"Your pants are on fire, amigo."

"Whatever! So what if I thought he and Francis were gay for each other? All they did was yell, aru… But it's not like I ever thought about his state of… defilement."

"It's wrong he's a virgin?" the Italian prince asked. His face contorted into an even deeper scowl when he realized something. "And you're not?"

"… I…" Antonio spluttered. "Well, you see… Francis is mi amigo and—"

"Stop right there. Images I don't need, aru," Yao cut in. "Anyway, it's been awhile. Perhaps you should get going. I don't mean to throw you out, but… you know, aru."

"I know," the Spanish lawyer said, smiling. Yao resisted the urge to lie down on the floor and pray for death to take him. That irritating smile was back. "Ah, this was very… how do you say… enlightening and fun? Yes, that's it. Perhaps we should meet up again? Possibly for dinner sometime this week? You could bring everyone who has found someone from your fairytale world. Would you like to do that?" Yao nodded, albeit hesitantly. "Wonderful! I'll be sure to call you later with details, all right? It was nice meeting you, Yao. I shall see you later on sometime this week." Antonio turned to go, grabbing Romano to drag with him, but looked over his shoulder before exiting. "It was nice meeting you too, Ivan!"

"Bye!" the Soviet called after them. "So, it is just us now again, da?"

"Just us," Yao affirmed.

"What do we do now?"

"Well, what do you want to do?"

"Go get lunch?"

"Fine, aru."

"So…" Ivan rocked back and forth on his heels. "Is this an official courtship?"

"… No."

---

Why did that old lady seem hell-bent on running into Ivan everywhere? Instead of the Soviet running her over this time, though, she approached him and smacked him with her old lady purse. Yao froze when he saw Ivan instinctively reach at his side, only to be put off by the missing metal pipe. The Soviet, at the loss of a weapon, took her bag instead and was about to hit her back with it until Yao grabbed it from him, just in time. The old lady snatched it from the lawyer, berated him for not properly looking after his friend, glared at Ivan for a moment, and then walked away. If he were a teenager in a suburban area, there would be no doubt Yao would be egging her house later. But he was an adult with a conscience and self-restraint.

Yao wandered around the city for a while, following the paths of random streets with Ivan trailing behind slowly. The tall buildings and wide variety of people still seemed to astound him. They astounded him so much, in fact, that Yao had to grab his hand before the prince could poke an odd looking person that was walking by. Ivan, of course, then wouldn't let go of his hand. A couple of people shot them looks, and Yao wanted to crawl into a hole and die. Most people he was acquaintances with already knew that he didn't prefer the opposite gender, but walking around holding hands with Ivan was like wearing a blinking neon sign for all the world to see. The Soviet prince either didn't notice his reluctance and awkwardness at the display, or didn't care. To avoid more humiliation, the lawyer pulled them into the closest shop.

"Hello!" the hostess at the front greeted them. Yao sighed in relief. At least they ended up in a restaurant. "Table for two?"

"Yes, please, aru," Yao confirmed.

"Follow me," she instructed, and lead the two to a table. Yao was even more embarrassed when Ivan insisted on seating him. The hostess sighed wistfully. "I wish my boyfriend did nice things like that for me."

"What?" Yao stammered. "N-No, we're not—"

The hostess held up her hand. "It's fine. I don't mind it at all. If you two need anything, anything at all, just ask for Seychelles, okay?"

"Thank you, aru."

The hostess gave them their menus, smiled, and left.

Finally, Yao thought the coast was clear. Until…

"Yao, _mon cher_, fancy meeting you here! Oh, and on a date, _oui_?"

Yao hid his face behind his menu, noting belatedly that just about everything was written in French.

He was so screwed.

* * *

**A/N**: Yay, more special guests! :D Haha, I love all you guys. This is a lot fun. Getting reviews from you and hearing how much you like it makes my day!! :) You're all so wonderful! Once again, any typos? I fucking hate those typos. I go through and try to find them all myself, but you know how it is... We're not all perfect... Many thanks! :) Also, if you don't know what Antonio is saying, there's this handy tool called 'google translate'. Oh, and to all you Spanish people out there, if my Spanish is wrong, you wanna tell me? :) I consider myself pretty good in Spanish, and sometimes I ask my friend from Mexico for help, but you know. I don't about know the whole sentence structure and grammatical points and stuff, so yeah. Enough about my Spanish fail. Hope you guys liked the chapter! Tell me ;) I patiently await for your kind words of encouragement... Did that sound conceited...? Damn.

R&R


	8. Chapter VII

**A/N**: Wow, almost at 100 reviews. This is… an honor. So, anyway, some of you history buffs out there might be scratching your head and wondering, "WTF happened to the Cold War? F that." (I know that's not how you said it, **lady-ribbon**, but I like to exaggerate ;D) Well, let's just say that never happened where Ivan is from…? Hahahaha… *sweatdrop* I kind of only _really_ know about the stuff I've learned so far, and we just started the Cold War unit on 4/19/10, so I didn't even think about it. Wow, now I feel like an idiot xD So yeah.

(By the by, **lady-ribbon**, this wasn't me picking on you any way, shape, or form. I love you too much! … That sounded really gay, didn't it?…)

Also, typos? If you spot any, point them out. (A thank you to **Alexilaihorox** for finding one last chapter!)

* * *

Yao instinctively tensed when an arm wound around his neck in some form of greeting hug that was a little too touchy-feely, and French, to be comfortable. The lawyer had never been more grateful for Ivan than he was in that very moment. As soon as Francis realized the Soviet was practically radiating the aura of bloody murder, the Frenchman let go with a mumbled apology. Yao continued to say nothing as Francis started talking to him and the Chinese man tried to block out his annoying voice, instead focusing on Ivan. Weird… he'd never noticed how handsome Ivan looked sitting in the sunlight streaming through the window—

No. Bad thoughts.

"Yao. Eh, hello? Anybody home?"

He turned only when a hand was being waved in his face.

Oh, it was only that Canadian receptionist.

"Are you okay?" the person asked. Yao never could remember his name, no matter how he tried, so he settled on nodding. The receptionist smiled before grabbing Francis's arm, cutting the Frenchman off in the middle of a sentence no one was listening to. "Come on, Francis. Let's leave them alone, eh? It wouldn't be nice to… intrude… on a private moment."

"But _Matthieu_," Francis whined.

"Right, your name is Matthew, aru," Yao sighed.

"What?" the receptionist asked.

"Oh, nothing! It's nothing," Yao lied, shaking his head. "Wouldn't you rather go spend time with Matthew than harass me, Francis? After all, he did take off and leave me with Tino today just so he could spend all hours with you, aru."

"Eh… sorry," Matthew apologized.

"Not that I dislike Tino!" Yao continued. "It's just that when Tino works, Berwald loiters around, and he scares everyone away, and then Tino just disappears for half of the day to 'feed his dog', aru. That, or they fight and have the whole 'she-is-not-my-girlfriend-slash-I-am-not-his-wife' debate, despite the fact they're two men and it would be illegal for they to marry. And then Arthur yells at him for a good hour or so for something usually trivial, aru. At least you don't say much."

"I say a lot of things!" Matthew protested.

"Really?" Yao sounded puzzled. "No, you're too quiet. I'm sure that if you said anything I would have heard you, aru."

"What's the point in the arguing?" the Canadian sighed, but, of course, no one heard. That, or they ignored him. He tugged on Francis's arm again. "We need to go, Francis. I mean it."

"Ah, but why, _mon amour_?" Francis asked. "We have a good two hours before the show starts…"

"Please, keep all talk about your 'show' between yourselves," Yao begged. "Some things in life aren't worth knowing."

"… I meant a play," Francis clarified. "Such a dirty mind, Yao."

"A direct effect from knowing you for too long, aru."

"Ooh, snappy. I like that." Francis reached over and flicked a stray strand of Yao's hair that had somehow managed to come loose from his ponytail. Yao was about two seconds away from turning around and smacking Francis, and even Matthew looked like he was about to cause some bodily harm to the French lawyer. But before either of them could act, Ivan had leapt up out of his chair and grabbed the Frenchman's wrist in a painfully tight grip. Francis looked at the pissed off prince, startled by the sudden move.

"Not a good idea, comrade," Ivan advised the other with a smile that promised death. "One does not touch the prince's property unless they wish to die."

Yao would have been rather impressed and forever grateful, but…

"Property?" the Chinese man repeated, incredulous. "I'm not a thing of yours."

"But you are _my_ fairest maiden," Ivan stated. "Not his. Da, you are mine."

"Well! This is awkward," Matthew interrupted quickly, and attempted to tug Francis's wrist out of Ivan's hold as the Frenchman's hand was starting to turn purple at an alarming rate. The Soviet grudgingly relinquished his crushing grasp on Francis after a stern look from Yao. "Thank you."

"That was a warning," the prince stated. "You are very lucky I did not have my pipe."

"_Mon dieu_," Francis said, cradling his hand against his chest. "Well, Yao, I hope he doesn't get too rough in the sack, for your sake…"

"F-Francis!" Matthew gasped. "Stop making jokes like that! Exactly the reason why your hand is that… lovely shade, eh."

"Kiss it better?"

"L-Later."

"Go away if you're going to talk about that, aru," Yao said politely.

"Fine, fine! We were on our way out when we spotted you, anyway," Francis explained with a shrug. "Though, may I share some lovely parting advice?"

"… What?" Yao raised an eyebrow.

"You've known each other for a day? I do think that's long enough, _mon cher_. You grow more uptight everyday!"

"… I think we'll just be going now," Matthew said, and then tugged a spluttering Francis with him.

"A _day_. He thinks a day is long enough, aru," Yao muttered as soon as the two were gone. Trust Francis to walk in, make lewd suggestions about him and Ivan, and basically insinuate that the lawyer needed to get laid. Matthew had to be a godsend. About halfway through flipping through the menu, trying to find any French to English cognates, Ivan spoke up.

"A day to what?" the prince asked.

"Uh… kiss, aru," Yao lied.

"So we can kiss?"

"… No."

"Why not?"

"I don't like you, and you don't like me."

"I like you!"

"Not in that very special way, though, aru."

"What do you mean?"

"See, you don't even know what I'm talking about. Proof that you haven't enough maturity to even think about kissing others."

"Why does kissing require thinking? You're really pretty! I'd kiss you!"

"Thanks, aru. I think that's first time someone other than Yong Soo has said that to me."

Yao frowned when he realized how utterly lame that sounded.

"… Have you ever kissed somebody?" Ivan asked.

"Yong Soo once dared me to kiss my cat named Shinatty," Yao said. "Does that count?"

"No. I meant a _person_."

"I kissed a girl awhile ago, aru."

"How long is 'awhile ago'?"

"… Around twenty years. Maybe. I was in grade school."

"That does not count."

"Arthur, then, aru."

"Oh, really? Are you two…?"

"Not in a million years. I'll leave that to your friend. Alfred, right?"

"Da, his name is Alfred… Why did you kiss Arthur?"

"… He kissed me while pretending to be a 'sexy waiter' or some bull, aru. I think he was really drunk and lost a bet to Francis."

"Da, how drunk?"

"So drunk that when I asked him about it the next day, he had no idea what I was talking about. Wait—why do you even care?" Yao asked suddenly. "It's not like you're planning on kissing me anytime soon…" He trailed off, expecting Ivan to approve of his point with a 'da' or some other form of acknowledgement, like a head nod. The prince only looked away with a sly look in his eyes. "Oh, no, aru. No, no, no, _no_. I may be a lip virgin, and you have no right to change that, even if you are my prince or whatever you would like to call yourself. This, aru," Yao gestured to the space between them, "is strictly platonic. Don't try to shift my ideas. You are very handsome, and honest, and sweet, and… I'm stopping there. The point is, aru, that there are no feelings. Let me reiterate my words from earlier; _one day_."

"We could at _least_ kiss," Ivan offered.

"For the love of god, _why_?"

"True love's kiss, of course!"

"… True love's kiss?"

"Da, the kiss of true love! I cannot say it any other way. It's that kiss where—"

"I know what it is. I've seen enough Disney movies to last a lifetime, aru. _Especially_ Mulan. Yong Soo found it hilarious that everyone in the film was Chinese."

"Da… So you know what it is?"

"I do."

"We can—"

"For the last time, _no_, aru."

"Why not?"

"I told you earlier! Listen, this conversation is going nowhere. If we keep talking about this, it's just going to keep traveling in a circle. Let's talk about something else, aru. Pick a topic. Like… the computer. I can tell you about the computer. Or, better yet, the phone, aru, since you love it so much. Alexander Graham Bell, who was born in Edinburgh, Scotland—"

"What's a date?" Ivan interrupted him.

"… What?"

"A date, da. Francis said something about this being a date…?"

"It's _not_ a date, aru!"

Yao shouted the denial so loudly that about half of the restaurant's occupants, and Seychelles, turned their heads to gawk. Yao, once again, tried to block his flaming red face from view with his menu. He could tell Ivan was stifling a laugh across the table, and that smile of his was almost starting to turn aggravating.

"I'd like to know what a date is," the Soviet said.

"Google it," Yao muttered.

"… What is a 'google'?" Ivan asked.

"The search engine, aru. You know, _google_?"

"A search engine?"

"… Never mind."

"Will you tell me what a date is? _Please_, Yao? I'll kiss you if tell me…"

"Didn't we just have a whole discussion about how we're never kissing?! Never, meaning not in this lifetime, or the next, or even the one after _that_. Even if I'm Barbie in the next life, and you're Ken, we are _never_ kissing."

"Da, but you came to that conclusion by yourself. I never agreed."

"Whatever, aru. You want to know what a date is? I can't believe I'm going to say that we're both from different worlds, but it's integral to the explanation; this world's 'dating' is like your world's 'courtship'. I'll use Yong Soo and Hong as an unfortunate example, aru. If Yong Soo wanted to marry Hong in your world, what would he have to do?"

"Give Hong presents and talk to him at social events and hope that he doesn't say no when he asks. That, or they had an arranged marriage, already."

"That's nice. In this world, we have 'dates'. One person asks the other out in a desperate attempt to impress them, aru. They can ask them to dinner, a movie, a play, or even a sporting event. If we're going by stereotypes, usually, the boy asks the girl to go wherever. After one asks the other out, they go do whatever was specified and talk about… stuff."

"Stuff?"

"Stuff, aru."

"What kind of stuff?"

"I don't know."

"Why not?"

Instead of answering, Yao shrugged.

He'd rather not admit he'd never been on a date to someone he barely knew.

"Well, in general, I guess they talk about their likes, dislikes, and other things," Yao offered.

"I like vodka," Ivan told him.

"Um… that's nice?"

"I do not like Ludwig. Your turn."

"I'm sorry, but what are you prattling on about now, aru?"

"My likes and dislikes. Your turn, now."

"… I see where you're going with this. This isn't a date."

"That must have slipped my mind." Ivan smiled. "Da, well, it is a 'date' now! So, your turn. What do you like?"

"… Food?"

"I like food, too. See, we have something in common! That is good, da?"

"Yeah, I suppose so, but everybody likes food except for people with eating disorders."

"Oh."

"Please, stop trying to make this a date and convince me that you're going to kiss me, aru. It's not appropriate lunch conversation, and I'd rather not talk about it."

"Sorry."

"It's… fine."

---

"You're back!"

"… _You're_ back, aru?"

Tino smiled and nodded.

Yao checked his watch.

"It's not even—" he began.

"I know, I know," Tino said. "Don't remind me. I actually had to feed Hanatamago, but she didn't like any of the food I gave her, so then Berwald took over. And then he said he had to get back to work and couldn't spend any more time with me. Apparently, his boss found out what he really does during his lunch breaks. I want to punch his boss, you know? Cutting into my private time, jeez… And Berwald is even scarier without his daily dose of 'Tino Time'—with both 't's capitalized because it's important—so then his boss got even _angrier_ and is making him work unpaid overtime. So I'll be lonely most of tonight."

"Well, look on the bright side."

"… What bright side?"

"Now you're actually able to do what you're being paid for and _work_, hmm?"

"But Yao! You don't understand!"

"Nope, aru. Never have, never will."

"Oh, don't be like that!" Tino huffed and slapped him lightly on the shoulder. Yao raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. "You need some gratification. Maybe then you'll loosen up?"

"I don't think so," Yao said, shaking his head. "Tell me, are you and Francis friends?"

"… Well, I know him." Tino said. "But _friends_? Not really. Besides, Berwald almost killed him when he called me 'mon cher' or some other French pick-up line. I think he tends to stay away from me because of that."

"Really? I was thinking otherwise. I thought you'd be friends."

"Why?"

"No reason, aru. " Yao shrugged. "Did anyone call for me while I was out? Or did you not get around to checking the messages yet?"

"No, I did. You received no calls." Tino smiled widely. "So, you can go home now."

"_Home_, aru?"

"Yeah, as in that place you live at? Your house."

"I know what a house is, thank you very much."

"I'm surprised, since you spend all of your time here instead of there. You come to work earlier than you're supposed to, and you leave late! You're almost as pitiful as Arthur, but at least he goes out and drinks sometimes! Why don't you ask if you can go with him one day?" Tino sighed. "You need some time off from work to go spend time with your friends. Or have some 'you time'. Go home and watch Mulan or something."

"Okay, _why_ does everyone think I like Mulan?"

"… Well… you're… Chinese."

"So that automatically makes me like Mulan? And I suppose redheads love The Little Mermaid?"

"That's not the point here! The point is that you're too stuffy to be possibly having fun. 'Live life to its fullest', is the quote! Not 'be a workaholic lawyer who has absolutely no fun and has a stick up his ass all day, every day'! You have some company." The receptionist gestured to Ivan, who was once again fawning over the fish in the fish tank. "Go spend time with him. Seriously, Yao, you found a _prince_. Didn't that make a red light go off in your head? Like, 'wow, maybe he's here to rescue me from this lonely and unfulfilling life I am currently leading'?"

"Who said I'm lonely, aru?"

"Once again, you come to work early, and you leave late. The only person you really talk about is your Korean brother, and most of the time you're griping about him. So… yeah. Lonely."

"Well, for your information, I'm not lonely, okay?"

"Denial. I think that's the first stage."

"I'm not depressed either, aru."

"Just _go home_." Tino placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. "I don't care what you do with the rest of your day as long as it's not work-related. But I would advise spending time with Ivan. Number one, he's really nice-looking. Number two, he _really_ likes you. And number three, I think he might help you lighten up."

"You're implying what I think you're implying, right?"

"Yep!" The Finn grinned. "Just remember; don't be a fool, wrap your tool!"

"Okay, you know what? I'll leave. Good-bye, aru."

* * *

**A/N**: I hope you all got the '_don't be a fool, wrap your tool_' line. ... Condoms, guys. Come on. Some lady from the 'Door of Hope: Pregnancy Center' came in and did a presentation about abstinence before marriage. She said that to encourage us to use condoms. I go to a Catholic school, and I don't think she got the memo that condoms are sinful. Man, you should have seen last year's 'Treasure Your Gift' program. The lady brought in this gift box full of _rubber snakes_. At the end, she took out all the snakes, and put them on her body. Those snakes represented STDs. They have been named the 'STD snakes' appropriately. She was like, "IF YOU HAVE SEX BEFORE MARRIAGE, YOU WILL CATCH MANY STDs. THAT IS WHAT THESE SNAKES SYMBOLIZE!" Fail.

Also, **Stitch-patch**, your review actually inspired me a lot xD You're hilarious. I hope you caught a couple places where I referenced to your review! Oh, and you too,** insomniac-genius**! Hilarity.

And everything with SuFin implications is for a good friend **Syous99**, who I know _ADORES_ SuFin.

And everything is dedicated to everybody, because I love you _all_ :) Really, this is great. Once again, typos? Those things always manage to slip past me...

Oh, and guess who got a 100 on her Spanish test? THAT'S RIGHT. I DID. ¡SOY MUY INTELIGENTE!

R&R


	9. Chapter VIII

**A/N**: GUESS HOW MANY REVIEWS THIS HAS!

IT'S OVER 9,000!

Haha, no, kidding :P But, seriously, you guys, over _100_?! Wow... I mean, like... holy... The beginning (and the little bit at the end ;D) is for someone who requested/suggested more Korea/Hong Kong (and Greece/Japan, which there WILL be more of, dammit! I love them too much!)! So, a shout out to **Sakura evil twin of Sango** for being awesome and suggesting things ;) Really, suggestions are great and they motivate me! Honestly, if it weren't for that review, I'm not sure how I would have started this chapter off... Don't think you're being rude trying to suggest something, because you're not.

Also, typos? Another shout out to** Yume Dust** for finding one the last chapter.

* * *

"… It's locked?"

"What is?"

"The door." Yao jiggled the doorknob again. "I thought I left this unlocked, aru…"

"Why would you leave a door unlocked?"

"Because I knew Yong Soo probably would have forgotten his key when he left last night, and nobody would try to steal from me. This is weird. Maybe Yong Soo is home, aru?" Before grabbing his key, Yao knocked, in case Yong Soo really _was_ home, but his Korean brother did not open the door. The lawyer reached into his pocket and pulled out the key to his apartment, unlocking the door and walking into the living room in one swift motion. The sight that greeted him however, made him stop in his tracks. "… Oh… my god… My eyes. My virgin eyes, aru."

"This is exactly what it looks like!" a pantless Yong Soo shouted from his spot on the couch, where he was pinning a shirtless Hong Kong down with one hand while the other was conveniently placed on a spot that Yao would rather not look at. Yao thanked whatever deity was listening that Yong Soo was still wearing underwear, even though it did no job in hiding the Korean's predicament. The lawyer covered his eyes with his hands. "Oh, come on, Yao! You've seen worse! We used to take baths together, remember?"

"You were _five_!" Yao hollered. "And what did I specifically say about the couch?!"

"You said, 'Im Yong Soo, feel free to feel up Hong Kong on the couch, _aru_'."

"I said no such thing, aru! And for the sake of everyone in this room, go put some pants on!"

"Hong doesn't mind!"

"Gee, I _wonder_ why?!"

"I mind," Hong said emotionlessly. At Yong Soo's disappointed look, he added, "I mind because your... well, our mutual state of undress is bothering your brother."

"But—" the Korean protested.

"_Pants_, Yong Soo! Now!" Yao demanded.

"Fine!" Yong Soo huffed. "Hong, where did you throw my pants?"

"They're on the floor somewhere," Hong replied.

"… So… on the couch, even…?" Ivan asked. He sighed after a sheepish nod from Hong Kong and a thumb up from Yong Soo, who was also busy trying to locate his pair of pants. Finally, the youngest brother found his pants and Hong's shirt. He pulled on his missing article of clothing before throwing the shirt in Hong's face. The other Chinese man was not pleased, but put his shirt on, anyway. "I slept on that couch! Is no sleeping place in this entire house safe?"

"My bed," Yao told him. He spread his fingers and glared at Yong Soo through the opening. He put his hands down when he saw Yong Soo was fully clothed, but kept his eyes trained on his brother's upper half. Pants didn't hide much of the incriminating evidence, either. "Or I should _hope_ so, aru. Are there more secrets you're hiding from me?"

"We've never done it on your bed, I _swear_," Yong Soo said.

"Just like how you swear you've never done it on the couch?"

"This is different!"

"Yes, you're right. It's different in the fact that _everyone_ sits on that couch, as opposed to the fact that only _I_ sleep in my bed, aru. Damn it, Yong Soo, Kiku was here yesterday with his creeper friend and sat there! Ivan slept on the couch last night! And you've been having sex on it all this time?!"

"We've never had _actual_ sex on this couch."

"Yet you've done enough on that couch to make me want to go out and buy a new one."

"So does that mean you're going to?"

"Does it look like I'm made out of money, aru?"

"… Do you want the honest answer or the right answer?"

"Never mind. Why am I even talking to you? This is a highly inappropriate moment. I think I've just been scarred for life, thank you very much."

"Oh, puh-_lease_, Yao. Don't be such a drama queer."

"How insulting!"

"You're acting like some sort of blushing bride. 'Oh, Yong Soo, I am so faint of heart, _aru_. Stop talking about intimate things whilst in my presence, _aru_. I feel as if I am going to pass out, _aru_.'"

"Since when have I sounded like some princess who can't breathe? And I do _not_ end all of my sentences with 'aru', aru!" Yao crossed his arms, and looked away, biting the inside of his cheek. "You were lucky enough to get speech therapy to help with your 'da ze' problem. I had to go school and sound like an idiot when I said 'aru' about every three sentences! It's just a verbal tick, aru!"

"I think it's attractive," Ivan added.

"… Thanks?" Yao muttered, blushing. Most people found 'aru' rather annoying, or they found it so cute they wanted to ruffle his hair. Francis had once tried to do the latter, but then Arthur, _wonderful_ Arthur, had smacked him for being rude and all but knocked him unconscious. At Yong Soo's haughty look, Yao hissed, "What? It's hot in here!"

"Of course it is!" Yong Soo said, and gestured to himself. "I'm in the room!"

"I'm about to leave the room," Yao grumbled.

"Why are you here, anyway?" Hong asked. "Not that I mind. After all, this is your apartment."

"Always so polite, Hong!" Yao said, and smiled.

"How come you never like me or smile at me like that?!" Yong Soo whined.

"When was the last time you tried to respect me, or just about the public in general, aru?"

"… What?" Yong Soo frowned.

"Oh, that's right, I suppose you invented the concept of politeness."

"That's right!"

"Kidding, Yong Soo."

"You think Ivan is hot."

"… _Excuse_ me?"

"Kidding, Yao. Or maybe not."

"Stop acting like a five-year-old," Hong whispered.

"_Hong_," the Korean complained. Yao scowled and starting tapping his foot. Yong Soo looked at him. "You look pissed."

"And it looks like you were about to have relations with Hong on my couch," Yao stated, rolling his eyes. Silence. "What? I thought we were playing the 'state the obvious' game, aru."

"Why are you pissed?" Yong Soo asked.

"What did I _just_ say?"

"That we're playing a game?"

"… Before that."

"What do you want from me? A written apology?"

"Alright, I'll take that. I want three paragraphs about why you're sorry, and why you will never do that again on my couch, aru. I'd get started on that now if you want to have a nicely written paper by the time I get back. You may use my laptop." Yao then remembered something. "I left my laptop on the couch, aru. Where is it?"

"Oh, yeah… about that…"

"I don't like your tone. What did you do?"

"I have a perfectly logical explanation for what happened!" Hong covered his face with his hands as Yong Soo launched into his story, complete with the use of some hand motions. "So, Hong and I were doing… stuff… mainly each other… so then I threw him down on the couch in a grand display of my Korean spirit, and there was this loud crack noise caused by my forcefulness. Yeah, your laptop's kind of broken, so…"

"Okay." Yao nodded, trying to keep calm so as not to explode from anger. "So now you have to either go out and buy me a new laptop, or get that one fixed, _and_ write me a paper. You'll have fun. I'm sure of it, aru."

"Fine. Can I borrow some money?"

"You break it, you buy it." Yao tapped his watch. "_I'm_ going to spend most of my day with Ivan here, in this apartment. _You_ have to leave and go get what you need to do finished. I don't want you to take forever. Hong, you may do whatever you wish to."

"I'll go with Yong Soo," Hong said stoically.

"Awesome!" Yong Soo said, and slung an arm around his boyfriend's waist. They made their way out the door, but Yao blocked them momentarily.

"If you get sidetracked at Hong's house, I want you to remember one thing only," the Chinese lawyer said.

"What?" Yong Soo asked.

"Don't be a fool, wrap your tool."

He could be funny, when he really tried.

"Good one, bro."

Yong Soo grinned and squeezed (groped) his shoulder (or right below on his chest) in a congratulatory manner before walking out the door with Hong Kong, pulling it shut after them. Yao sighed in relief as the tension, awkwardness, and sibling apprehensiveness evaporated from the air, but now he was left with another problem. Ivan stared down at him with his creepy-yet-somehow-charming slasher smile on his face, and his bright purple eyes were glowing with childish delight at the prospect of him and Yao spending alone time together. If he were to be honest, Yao wouldn't say it was the most unattractive thing he'd ever gotten a glimpse of—quite the opposite, really. But the lawyer wasn't known to be honest with himself, and therefore kept all emotions repressed in a bottle named denial.

"… So…" Yao began, but he couldn't think of any conversation topics.

"May I see your room?" Ivan asked.

"Why, aru?" Yao asked, skeptical. He didn't want Ivan to tie him to the bed with his scarf like a prisoner chained to a brick wall, and he didn't find the prospect of letting the Soviet have his dirty way with him appealing.

Well, maybe if he got into it, it wouldn't be so bad.

Yao exhaled loudly, and held his face in his hand.

So many bad thoughts! The air Yong Soo released when breathing was probably full of stupid, sexual thoughts and now, unfortunately, Yao was subjected to sucking in the same air as his Korean brother had been. It was all diffusion. Yes, Yong Soo, who had a higher concentration of very provocative thoughts, let those inappropriate things be led to a Yao, who was _sane_ and had a lower concentration of said thoughts.

"—so that is why I would like to see your room, da," Ivan finished.

"… Oh, wait, you were talking?" Yao asked.

"Da. Were you not listening?"

"Err, I only caught the last part. Don't hurt me, aru."

"I would never hurt my fairest maiden!"

"I'll hurt you if you keep calling me that."

"I would like to see you try."

"This is going to go nowhere. Could you just repeat what you said?"

"I said that the design of this world is much different to that of the Soviet Union, and I would like to see a… what word should I use… modern? Da, a modern style bedroom."

"Fine. Come on, aru."

Yao led him through the hallway of his apartment. He had to slap Ivan's hand away from a couple of precious paintings, expensive vases, and other pieces of décor all from either China or Korea. Kiku had taken his own things when he left. Just the thought of Kiku leaving made Yao have a little more anger in his current demeanor, and the lawyer slammed the bedroom door open harshly. A couple things on top of the nearby dresser rattled, but thankfully, nothing fell. Ivan placed a soothing hand on his shoulder that lingered a couple seconds longer than necessary as he passed by.

"… You like red," the Soviet said bluntly as he scanned the bedroom with a critical eye.

"I do," Yao agreed.

"I like red, too. Oh, what does this say?" Ivan asked, pointing to random picture on the wall. "It is in… a foreign language I cannot read."

"It says 'fu', the Chinese word for luck. It's usually put on posters around Chinese New Year, but I have the character hanging up year round, aru. God knows I need all the luck I can get."

Ivan nodded, and did not question the last statement.

"It is very pretty," he said, and then smiled wider at Yao. "Fitting."

"Yeah, well…" Yao shrugged. "It had a woman's touch."

"Did it?" The room, thanks to Ivan's cold voice, suddenly dropped to about the temperature of Siberia.

"My _mother_," Yao stressed.

"Oh, yes, where are Yao's parents?"

"… Um, gone, aru."

"Gone? Gone where?"

"Somewhere."

"You are being very vague. I suspect you wish to drop the topic, and I will oblige." Ivan grabbed the vase off of the top of his dresser. "What kind of flowers are these?"

"Those are peonies."

"Da, I see…" Ivan studied the flowers again for a moment, then set them back down, a _thunk_ reverberating off of the wooden dresser and into the room. Yao internally cringed, hoping his vase wasn't damaged by the other's brute strength. "Sunflowers are better."

"… What?"

"I _said_ sunflowers are better."

"Why, aru?"

"Don't they remind you of warm places? It is too cold to grow flowers in the Soviet Union, so I can only daydream about fields of sunflowers."

"Well, that's a nice aspiration, to find a field of sunflowers—"

"And drink lots of vodka!"

"… Lots of vodka?"

"Lots and _lots_! When I find that field, I will invite you so you can come sit in the warmth with me, fairest maiden."

"I'm _not_ your fairest maiden!"

"Da, deny it, comrade, but you _are_ my fairest maiden."

"Once again, we can either keep going around and around in circles with this topic, or we can do something productive, aru. Let me show you the bathroom so you can take a shower—or a bath, whichever you prefer—now."

"Da!"

Ivan followed Yao again as if he was a godsend, and Yao showed him the bathroom. Yao meticulously kept it spotless and clean, and Ivan seemed to admire that, if the way he running his hands over the porcelain sink and bathtub were anything to go by.

"Would you like a bath or a shower?" the lawyer asked.

"What is a shower?" the Soviet responded.

"This," Yao pointed to the showerhead, "is where the water comes out of, instead of the regular faucet."

"What is a faucet?"

"… Are you serious, aru? Look, I'll just show you what you to do. This tap is for hot water, and this one is for cold water. Adjust the taps to the right temperature you want it, and then pull up this thing. The water should come out of the showerhead then. You have free access to all the shampoo, conditioner, and soap, aru."

"Thank you! Do I need to get undressed to take a shower?"

"Yes, you do…"

"Then why are you still here?"

"I was just leaving! Jeez, aru!"

---

How long did it take one person to take some measly shower? Ivan had been in there for the past half hour, racking up both the lawyer's heating bill and water bill simultaneously without a care. Yao had checked on him ten minutes ago, just to make the Soviet hadn't fallen and died or something, though he was sure he would have heard _that_. He was sent away with a shout of, 'I am fine, Yao!' But the lawyer wasn't convinced too easily, so he went to see how the prince was doing again. Before he could knock, the sound of running water stilled, making him sigh with reassurance. Smoke was seeping out of the door from the opening at the bottom, and Yao wondered just how the hell hot Ivan had made his shower.

He probably should have moved from the doorway when the water stopped, because soon the door opened.

"… Where's your towel, aru?!"

* * *

**Bonus**

"Mm, you taste like..." Yong Soo paused to think. "Tea and flowers."

Hong pushed his face off of his chest and looked at Yong Soo, a concerned expression on his face.

"What?" the Korean questioned.

"You said that like you've eaten flowers before," the Chinese man said, brows furrowing. He kept talking and talking, but Yong Soo was definitely more focused on the mouth that was forming seriously erotic motions than the actual words being said. God, why did Hong have to keep _rambling_? For some reason the Korean was unaware of, Hong liked to blather during the whole foreplay thing. He'd asked about it once, but a shove and an hour-long silence was his answer. Maybe it was just a release of all those words that Hong Kong kept bottled up all day? Yong Soo's coherent train of thought broke when Hong grabbed his chin and pulled his face temptingly close to the other's. "Should I be worried?" The question was breathed heavily against his lips. Yong Soo, of course, tried to lean in but Hong's grip was firm. So damn _close_...

"I've never eaten a flower, I swear," the Korean promised. Just to be cheeky, he added, "Unless you count as one."

Hong pushed him away, utterly embarrassed.

"Hey, don't be like that, baby!" Yong Soo whined.

"Don't call me that," the other huffed.

"It was a compliment!"

"I'm not a child."

"I didn't mean it _literally_."

"Then why did you say that?"

"It was a term of endearment I invented!"

"Just like how you were six and you told me you invented kissing and wanted to try it with someone?"

"And then you fell for it?"

Hong looked away, impassive expression now dominant on his face. Yong Soo knew he was losing Hong's attention when that bored, dull look appeared. Instead of trying to coax him out of his current dispassionate state (read: bitch-mode) via groping, Yong Soo mustered up all of his Korean spirit that gave him strength and collected Hong Kong in his arms, bridal style.

"W-What are you doing?!" Hong hissed.

"Nothing," the Korean whistled as innocently as he could manage.

Good, the blush had returned to Hong's face. He was getting back into the swing of things.

Hong closed his eyes and pretended this wasn't happening. He had managed to revel in the sweet ignorance until Yong Soo unceremoniously dumped him onto the couch and climbed on top of him.

And then there was a loud _crack_.

"... Did you hear that?" Yong Soo asked.

"I... I think there's shards of something digging into my back," Hong said in response. "Didn't your brother leave his laptop on the couch?"

"... Fuck."

"What are we going to do?"

"Ignore it and continue."

* * *

**A/N**: Oh, I simply couldn't help myself from adding that last bit. Korea/Hong Kong forever, _fools_! (I pity the fool!) Once again, typos? I'm begging you to point out every typo you spot. Hurhurhur, oh, Ivan... Why is this so perverted? I'm a 14-year-old girl, I can't help myself... I think perverted jokes are funny :D About the Bonus; like? Dislike? YOU WANT ME TO WRITE MORE FOR OTHER CHAPTERS? Well, okaaaaay~ No, only if it pertains to events in the actual chapter xD Besides, I couldn't help from writing that. Korea/Hong Kong needs more love.

P.S. Do any of you know what Familial Mediterranean Fever Syndrome is? (And don't _google_ it) Because I have that :D

R&R


	10. Chapter IX

**A/N**: Little angsty at the end, but that's as much angst as I can manage. Dear god, I hate angst. It makes me want to bash my head into a wall. (Kind of why I dislike Russia/Lithuania) Also, typos? Anyone? _Typoooooos_? (No, that wasn't a typo, that was me proving a point xD)

Another thanks to **Yume Dust** for finding one last time. If it weren't for her, this whole thing would be littered with typos. It'd be like the New York City of FF. ... Sorry if that was offensive to anyone who lives in NYC. I'm just not a fan of all the trash. (Yes, I've been there before)

And a shout out to **Neko Matty**, who really made me think. I want your opinion, guys. Where do you stand on this 'pantsless', 'pantless', or 'pant less' thing? I have no clue :P

* * *

"Towel?" Ivan was utterly confused. "What towel?"

Yao sure as hell didn't hear a word of that, as he was much too preoccupied with staring at the Soviet's body freely up for show. Ivan was most certainly not lacking in _any_ area. Water clung to his hair, flattening it to his skull, and droplets of it ran down his toned muscles. Fortunately—or maybe unfortunately, Yao couldn't decide—steam circled the other and made areas the lawyer would rather not let his eyes travel to (again) hazy and blurred. The urge to reach out and touch the prince, run his hands over those disturbingly irresistible and brawny arms, feel his toned chest, was overwhelming. It was like a scene out of a bad pornography film. Ivan stared at him, purples shining with concern.

"Yao?" the prince tried, waving his hand. "Yao, da? Your face is red."

Yao jumped when a distinctly wet hand landed on his forehead and Ivan's face was millimeters away from his. So… damn… _close_…

"You do not have a fever," Ivan muttered. "Is something wrong?"

Yao snapped and, to stop himself from doing anything he'd ever regret, he covered his eyes with his hands.

"Yes, something is wrong!" the lawyer shouted. "I left a towel in there for you, aru!"

"It had a 'Y' on it. I figured it must be Yao's or Yong Soo's. Silly Yao, _my_ name begins with an 'I'! Or a 'B', if you want to go by surname." Ivan chuckled. "You should have left one out with either one of those letters on it."

Why did Ivan have to be so dense?

He was as perceptive as the average brick wall.

"Just put the towel on!"

"Oh, it is okay. Burly men, such as myself, do not need fluffy towels when the water is hot! I shall just stay like this, da?"

"_No_, you'll put a towel on, aru."

"There's no need to."

"There is! You're _naked_."

"But you are my fairest maiden! You would have seen me like this eventually once we married! Or are you mad that I did not invite you to spend time in the shower with me? I will next time, I promise."

"… Are you serious?" Yao shook his head. "I'm not mad about that. We are never taking a bath or shower or whatever together. And we're not getting married either."

"Da, comrade, whatever you say."

"Please, go put the towel on, aru."

"If you insist."

The door to the bathroom slammed shut, signaling Ivan had gone back to find the towel. Yao thought it was it was okay to put his hands down, so he did while sighing. He batted the steam away with his hand, trying to make the air as clear as was prior to the prince's shower. The door finally reopened, but of course, Ivan really hadn't done anything to help his case. The towel was draped about his shoulders, and not covering the most important place. Thanks to the steam now being nonexistent, Yao could see him perfectly.

_ Perfectly_.

"I…" the lawyer stammered, trying to find words, but his tongue was suddenly heavy. All thought process ceased. Ivan reached out and closed his mouth for him, smiling the entire time.

"You like it, da?" he asked.

Words still failed Yao.

"I knew it!" Ivan declared.

"… What, aru?" Yao said breathlessly. At least that had come out somewhat clearly.

"At first, I thought you rejected my advances because you preferred women, but I see that is not the case. My body is attractive, da? Especially to you." Yao almost wanted to punch him in the face. He could see the smugness hiding behind that façade of juvenile gaiety. And how _dare_ the prince assume things about him?! The audacity! "My friend Eduard was right! He is very scientific, you know."

"He was right about _what_?"

"That the weaker of the breed go for the stronger of the breed. You look strong for someone on of your stature, but you are far too small and petit and much too pretty to even consider a woman as a potential spouse." Ivan's smile grew wider. "Luckily for you, I am not a woman. Keep in mind that I am always a candidate, should you ever consider going out on one of those 'dates'. Perhaps I should show you how courtship is _really_ done, da?"

"No. Look, you're not dressed; we shouldn't even be talking. Stay right there. I have clothes for you, aru."

---

The shirt didn't fit. The pants were too short. So Ivan stood in front of him, shirtless and wearing a pair of pants that showed off his legs.

Yao cussed. Did the gods hate him and enjoy his torture?

Now that Ivan was wearing clothes that covered his most essential vital regions, Yao could think rationally. But, even in the sensible environment, his brain still came to the conclusion that Ivan was… dare he think it?… _sexy_. He couldn't argue with that fact. Ivan was definitely attractive. Yao had previously had crushes on others of the same gender in the past, but no boy he'd come across could ever hope to amount to the same level of appeal Ivan possessed.

These thoughts were giving him a headache.

Every pillar of important family values and logic that was upholding his righteous mind was crumbling.

"So," Ivan began, "once my clothes have finished washing in your, ah… _washing machine_… and are dried, shall we go somewhere? Have you reconsidered my offer? Courting you would be very nice, da."

"We're not dating, aru," Yao told him with a frown. "We will never date. Nor will we kiss."

"You sadden me," Ivan muttered, pulling a kicked puppy face.

"I barely even _know_ you," Yao sighed.

"That is what 'dating' is about, you said. Getting to know the other?"

"It is, but will you please stop trying to 'woo' me?"

"But now I know that you like me! Why should I give up?"

"Because I'm not willing, aru?"

"That is no reason!"

"… That's plenty of reason."

"But I am Prince Ivan The Brave! Surely, you will change your mind. When I marry, I shall become _King_ Ivan The Brave! And you can be King Yao The Pretty. Or is it queen…?"

"We're _not_ getting married!"

Ivan shrugged.

"We should go somewhere," he said.

"Once you have decent clothes," Yao muttered. "I don't know if it's the same in the Soviet Union, but here, it's not normal walk around wearing tight pants and no shirt." He paused. "Well, those creepy Goth kids who like screaming wear tight pants, but that's besides the point, aru."

"… Does that mean we can go somewhere?"

"Depends. Where would you like to go?"

"The park of Central?"

"… You can just say 'Central Park', aru."

"Da, I will you show you where I ended up after being transported here by the evil witch!"

"That'd be helpful."

---

Ivan strolled beside him, finally fully dressed again, humming some tune that Yao was sure was Soviet in nature. Randomly, he'd burst out in the song that went along to the melody, but Yao always managed to quiet him down. It was also hard trying to focus on where he was walking and being led when Ivan kept trying to grab his hand. _So_ many people kept giving them that weird look, either at him, at the prince, or just the odd combination they made. The lawyer suddenly even caught the eye of the old lady from earlier, but thankfully there was a nearby tree to hide behind.

He sighed when the lady walked away from the vicinity, and was about to move, but Ivan's arms were on either side of his head, effectively keeping him trapped. The tree bark was starting to get a little uncomfortable, with it _stabbing his back_ and what not.

"Hmm," the Soviet muttered with a smile. "Compromising, da?"

"No," Yao growled back, trying to shove the other away.

"I think we should stay like this," the prince suggested.

"No. You seriously need to move before I put my knee where it hurts, aru," Yao advised.

Ivan instantly stepped away.

Yao brushed his suit off like the uptight, corporate business slave he was.

"You have bark on your backside," Ivan told him. "Come, turn around and let me get it for you."

"Nice try. Yong Soo used that one before to grope Hong Kong's ass. But your effort to touch me has been duly noted, aru," Yao replied, rolling his eyes.

"I was only trying to help," Ivan mumbled, and then reached out to pluck a piece of wood out of his hair. "See? There is one like this on your back, comrade."

"… Fine. Just don't let your hand linger anywhere for too long."

"Da, Yao!"

Ivan smiled widely, spun him around, and grabbed one off of his back.

"Thank you, aru," Yao said. "That would have been embarrassing."

"Now you owe me, da?" Ivan asked. "To reach equivalency, we hold hands. I see many people doing it, so I suppose it is symbolic of 'dating'."

"You just _don't_ give up, do you?"

"Da, I usually get what I desire, even if by force. I am trying to be nice here and calmly persuade with you my… how do you say… charm? Da, charm, but you are defensive. I do not see why you must be so straitlaced. What reason do you have?" He startled Yao by grabbing his hand. "If it is too personal, give my hand a squeeze. I am here to comfort my fairest maiden! We shall have no secrets between us, so please, do begin. I will listen attentively."

"No, Ivan," Yao grumbled. "I've told you plenty of times—I barely know you."

"And how do you suppose that you will get to know me if you do not tell me anything?" Ivan asked, pleading with his bright violet eyes. "I will go first, if you want me to."

"Fine. Whatever, aru. Let's just keep walking, okay?"

"Da, Yao." Ivan began leading him through the park again, but kept a tight grip on the lawyer's hand, as if he might run away. Yao tried to tug it out of his grip when _everyone_ started looking their way and whispering amongst themselves, but Ivan's hold was as strong as concrete. The prince even began swinging their clasped hands back and forth while humming that stupid tune from before all over. Though holding hands with someone who had good intentions for once felt oddly nice and comforting, it was still undoubtedly awkward. Yao wasn't a big one for public displays of affection.

"So." Ivan finally initiated a conversation. "Back at home, I have my lovely older sister, Ukraine. I know that Yong Soo and Kiku are you're siblings, but do you have any others?"

"… No. It's just the three of us. I'm the oldest, aru, Kiku's the middle brother, and Yong Soo's 'the baby', or whatever my mother called him." Yao shrugged. "She always liked him best."

"Ah. My parents adore Ukraine," Ivan added. "I do believe my parents favor her because she is the eldest, and a woman. But I do not mind; my parents are rarely around, anyway."

"That's… nice."

"Da, it is. I dislike them both. Do you like your parents?"

"I'm grateful to them."

"That does not answer the question, comrade."

"They were alright, I guess, aru. I was adopted from China, and everything was fine until they got Kiku from Japan. They liked Kiku more than they liked me. Kiku was my father's favorite, probably because he wasn't some awkward Chinese kid who added 'aru' to everything thanks to an accent that wouldn't go away. And he already knew a lot of English before he came to the states, aru. It took me a couple months to catch up with my class. And then they got Yong Soo from South Korea, and since he was the youngest, my mother favored him. He was always that perfect kid who did nothing wrong, and I was the kid who was his scapegoat. 'No, I swear it wasn't me who broke the TV, Mom! It was Yao!' And they _always_ believed him, aru."

Yao kicked a nearby rock with as much force as he could manage. Why the hell was he telling Ivan all of this? But he couldn't stop. It was like the Hoover Dam of his mind had broken, and now every secret he'd kept locked up was flowing like rapid water. Not to mention the prince's hand holding his was such a wonderful feeling unlike any other, and Ivan's encouraging smile was sweet in its own way.

"Yong Soo was that lazy genius type of person, too. Do you know how _hard_ I studied just maintain my straight As? I sat in my room for _hours_ pouring over books, aru. All Yong Soo had to do was slack off. Everything came to him so naturally. My report card was outstanding, perfect, I never acted out in class, and yet I got nothing. No reward, no praise, maybe a 'good job' from Kiku if I was lucky, aru. But when Yong Soo brought home his report card, littered with comments about his horrid habit of talking and claiming he invented everything, it was like the second coming of Jesus. 'Oh, Yong Soo, you're so smart, let's go out for ice cream! Sorry, Yao, you have to stay home and watch your cat.' Sometimes, aru, I wish they would have just left me in China to be a poor beggar boy. At least I would _fit in_ there.

"It probably didn't help I was picky with my food. 'Oh, Yao, if you don't like what we're having for dinner, go make something yourself!' So then Kiku would always offer to make me something, aru. 'Oh, Kiku, you're so nice to your brother! And such a great cook!' Well, so was I, but was _that_ ever acknowledged? No, it wasn't! And I had _no_ friends until I got to high school, aru, except for occasionally Kiku. The only time I ever had a _real_ friend was when Arthur came here on that foreign-exchanged British student thing junior year. People only talked to me because I was related to Kiku and Yong Soo!"

"Settle down, Yao. You're yelling," Ivan hushed him.

"Sorry, aru."

"What happened to your parents?"

"Car accident. Neither lived. Only I did."

"… So they are 'gone', as in dead?"

"Yeah. I was eighteen, a legal adult, so I was able to take care of my brothers. Thank god they put a lot of money in the bank in case they ever did die, that way I could still go to college, get a job, and continue to support them, aru. I used to hate my brothers, but then I was thankful I had them. I wasn't so lonely. But now it's different. Kiku's not around so much anymore and we don't talk anymore, mostly because I caused him to leave with my controlling nature, and the apartment is empty when Yong Soo goes back to school. He's on spring break right now, you see, aru."

"That is so sad, Yao! I cannot believe it!"

Ivan leaned forward and grabbed him in a breath-taking (literally) hug before he could jump out of the way.

"S-Stop! It's fine!" Yao hissed, trying to push the other off of him.

A girl, who looked she had just gotten back from church with her parents, saw them embrace and whistled.

"Hey! Quit looking at other people's private moments!" Yao shouted at her. "Doesn't god forbid homosexuality?!"

The girl's parents frowned at him and led her away.

"That wasn't nice, Yao," Ivan admonished him.

"I don't care. Just show me where you woke up, aru."

* * *

**A/N**: Oh, why do I torture everybody? Because I'm awesome. Have any of you heard that 'I'm Awesome' song? ... Reminds me of Prussia xD Just because of the 'I'm awesome!' part. By the way, I met another Hetalia fan at Boscov's! :D It was awesome! I saw her purse, and it had buttons of Japan and Finland on it, so I walked over and said hi! Yeah, now we're texting/e-mail friends :3 It's great. Anyone else want to be my e-mail buddy...? No...? Okay xD Haha. I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter. Yao is finally letting his like for the same gender shine through.

Also, typos? You guys should know by now how much I goddamn hate those things.

And a side note: Anybody notice how America laughs? Like, if I were to put it in typing it'd be this: "HAHAHAHA!" Is that how others think Americans laugh? To all of you who aren't from America... is that how you think we laugh? xD I'll admit I put 'Haha' at the beginning of my sentences a lot, but at least I don't laugh like "AHAHAHA!" Like, legit. Well... maybe I do laugh loudly, but that's because I'm part Italian, fool! xD Kidding, kidding. Not about the Italian part, though. I really _am_ half Italian.

Oh, Greece/Japan should make an appearance soon, to all of you patiently waiting :) (You know who you are!)

Also, I'm thinking of starting up another Russia/China fic. Would you mind if this took me longer to update while I also write that one, or would you rather I finish this one before I start another?

R&R


	11. Chapter X

**A/N**: YOU GUYS, TYPOS? TYPOS AND I SEEM TO BE GETTING ALONG A LOT LATELY, BUT I'D RATHER OUT FRIENDSHIP STOP.

**Yume Dust**, if you please. She, my friends, is my official Grammar Error Girl. THAT DOES NOT MEAN YOU CANNOT POINT OUT ONES YOU FIND, TOO. Also, **sweet ticket** knows how this whole 'system' works. You find a typo, you point it out to me. Seriously, you guys. I know authors get 'offended' when people point out their mistakes, and I honestly don't get that. Typos make my eyes bleed, and I want to save everyone else from the fate of bleeding eyes, too.

... I just ranted about typos. Wow, I think I just got knocked down a couple pegs on the 'coolness scale'. Oh, and a _tad_ bit angsty at the end. You guys remember my idea of 'angst' from the last chapter? Yeah. I hate angst, but it's a bit necessary, even though this is intended to be humorous. And yay, Giripan in the first part! I love Heracles... Oh, those Greek guys really do it for me...

Oh, and **TLuLu** is translating this into Chinese. Um, greatest honor ever. I'm stunned. Love you, **TLuLu**!

* * *

"This bench." Ivan gestured to the uncomfortable wooden bench innocently placed in front of them underneath a tree. "I will retell my story, so your memory will be jumpstarted. I was at a wedding between my friend Toris and his fairest maiden when the evil witch of the woods, Natalia, crashed it. She is crazy and I do believe she is in love with me. She keeps trying to get me to marry her… I have told her plenty of times that I would never marry her, even if she were the last human in the Soviet Union, but she never listens! She then cursed me as punishment for not wanting to marry her unstable self, I suppose, and sent me to place where there are 'no happy endings'. And supposedly people came along, which would explain my friends' appearances."

"That's… interesting, aru," Yao muttered. "Witchcraft is popular where you come from?"

"No. Natalia is just _insane_," Ivan answered, shaking his head. "Quite unpleasant to be around, also. For a witch, she is very pretty, but that cannot make up for her ugly personality. She is nowhere near as pretty as Yao, though." Ivan smiled. "Da, Yao is the prettiest!"

"I'm a _man_," Yao sighed.

"Who is to say a man cannot be beauteous? Surely, he or she has not met you."

"Flattery will get you nowhere."

"Da, of course. And that is exactly why you are blushing right now."

"I-I'm not blushing, aru! It's just hot outside! How are you not dead from a heat stroke by now?!"

"Silly Yao! Temperature will not defeat me! I am the hero of _two_ wars. It would take something much more mighty than high temperatures to fell this prince. I bet you that even stupid Alfred cannot bruise me in the slightest." The prince placed his large hand on the lawyer's shoulder. "Let me try to represent my feelings with a healthy dynamic; you are the building, I am your stable foundation. My purpose now is to protect you and make sure you do not fall. You are the Berlin Castle, and I am the stone it is made out of, da."

"… The Berlin _Castle_?"

"That was not the point I wanted you to pick up on, comrade."

"No, I know, but still, aru! The Berlin _Castle_?"

"So as not to waste precious time, I will summarize things for you. After the second kingdom war, Germany was left in ruins. My kingdom, full of kindhearted and sympathetic Soviets, offered to help them rebuild their castle in Berlin. For only a small bit of Germanic land to control, of course, but it was nice of us to even assist. America, England, and France all decided to butt in to help, too, because they cannot help but stick their noses into everyone's business. Though, their work was not even as nearly as spectacular as the work of the Soviet Union!" The Soviet squeezed his shoulder. "America was demanding we give back the land we took as compensation, but my father and the president of America have reached an agreement and signed a treaty. A third kingdom war is something we do not need. In fact, thanks to that treaty, America is one of our greatest allies! We are the two great superpowers, you see."

"So… the Cold War never happened where you are?"

"… If you are fighting in the Soviet Union, every war is cold."

"That's… not what I meant. Never mind, aru. Forget I mentioned it."

"No, no! Tell me more about this Cold War."

"Well, it was basically a nuclear arms race—"

"What is a 'nuclear'?"

"… It's not a thing. It's an adjective."

"Da, I suppose you are right. Then what is an 'arms race'? Most people I know race with their horses. Or their legs. It mainly depends on how much time you have and your level of boredom. Sometimes we bet on the horses."

"Really?"

"Da. I always enter my horse, Russia, because he is the swiftest. I never lose when it comes to betting on horses."

"… Isn't that kind of cheating, aru?"

"No, not at all! It is called… what is that phrase… thinking outside of the rectangle? Da, I believe so."

"Thinking outside the _box_."

"Does it matter? Either way, I am using my knowledge to my advantage. It is not my fault that nobody notices. I always tell Alfred to bet on my horse whenever we have friendly races between kingdoms, but he does not heed my advice, and instead bets on his own horse. Though he is a good friend of mine, you would never believe how much money I have earned from his stupidity. All money I get from gambling goes to the funds of the Soviet Union, da. He has, in a way, attributed to my success."

"What about your other friends? The, err, _princes_?"

"Well, as I have said before, I dislike Ludwig. He started two wars, and then depended on every other kingdom to rebuild his after we crushed him like how shoes smash bugs. Ludwig is a… cockroach, da? For a cockroach is a troublesome bug that simply will not _die_. We are not on exactly friendly terms, so I never speak with him unless we are conversing about our relationship. Romano is fine, but he is very loud and rude, unless I am around. Then, he is very quiet. I do not understand, but I will not complain. His voice grates on my nerves. I actually like Heracles. He does nothing but sleep and play with cats. Although I find him a bad influence on my sister because he speaks so slowly that it sounds as if he is using illegal substances, I appreciate his presence more so than I do Romano's or Ludwig's."

"Ah… thank you," a new voice said, from right behind them. Yao gave a startled jump and quickly turned around, Ivan following suit, but much less unnerved. Heracles frowned and looked back at him. "I didn't mean to scare you."

"You didn't scare me, aru!" Yao shouted back.

"… I thought I heard you yelling," Kiku mused.

Yao scowled at the sight of the two, standing in front of him with linked arms. Were they trying to flaunt the fact that they were happy and he was still lonely in his face? Perhaps it was just another thing Kiku could add to his 'Brag to Yao about ___' list.

"Would you care to explain…" he gestured to the space Heracles and Kiku were occupying, "_whatever_ is going on here?"

"We were taking a walk," Kiku told him.

"A… very nice one," Heracles added.

"And then I thought I overheard you yelling at someone to mind their own business." Kiku looked past his shoulder, the slightest bit of a confused expression on his otherwise emotionless face. "Yong Soo is not with you?"

"He's busy doing Hong Kong," Yao said with a shrug. Kiku's confused look morphed into a rather offended one. "Oh, don't give me that look, aru. You don't seem entirely innocent yourself, walking around all romantically entwined with what's-his-face."

"His _name_ is Heracles, Yao," Kiku pointed out.

"Wonderful. I don't necessarily intend to be rude, but what are you doing over here, aru?"

"I… just came over to say hello. How are you?"

"Fine."

"… Ah. Well, that's… good, I suppose."

"Yes, I would like to think so…" Yao coughed. "And how are things with you?"

"As they should be."

"Good, good."

"Yes…"

"Well…"

"Heracles!" Ivan decided to step in and break the awkward tension in the air. Heracles stopped gazing at Kiku (with such an intense stare that Yao was about to slap him for eye-raping his brother) long enough to give Ivan a glance in his direction as acknowledgement. "So, Heracles, where did Kiku find you in this park? It is imperative that we know this information, comrade."

"I was… underneath a tree… I'm not sure which one…" The prince of Greece paused. His thoughts were much more focused on Kiku and the stray cat walking by. Mostly the former, but even his sexual thoughts and urges-filled brain could take a break from the perverted thoughts to think about innocent kittens once in awhile. "I forget."

"… You forget," Ivan repeated. It didn't even sound like it was question. "How does one _forget_?"

"It's possible," Heracles muttered.

"Speak up, comrade! You have such a hushed and slowed tone that it both makes tortoises seem fast and it also makes me want to fall asleep!" Ivan shouted.

"Probably because I don't want to be talking to you," the Grecian grumbled quietly.

"Don't insult Ivan, aru," Yao said.

"Oh?" Heracles seemed surprised. "I thought you said—"

"I said nothing!" Kiku told him hurriedly. "I told you absolutely _nothing_, remember?"

"What—" Yao was in the middle of asking, but Kiku's wave cut him off.

"We're, uh, going to be leaving now. It was, um, nice seeing you. I guess."

Kiku turned away and dragged a puzzled Heracles with him toward the way out of the park.

"… If you are worried if I might like Kiku better than you, don't worry; Yao is my favorite!" Ivan said loudly once the others were out of hearing range. "Yao is much, _much_ prettier than Kiku could ever be. And you have emotions."

"Thank you?" Yao murmured. "Come on, let's just keep walking. They were right about the part that it's a nice day for a walk, aru." The lawyer started down the stone path once again, and Ivan trailed behind. The prince grabbed Yao's hand and started humming again. Even though it wasn't the same damn tune from earlier, Yao still wanted to either plug his own ears or stick a sock in Ivan's mouth. A performer playing the flute stopped Ivan by putting his hand on the Soviet's shoulder. Ivan whipped around and automatically made a grab for his metal pipe. Yao would have thought that Ivan would have remembered he didn't have it, but apparently not. The flutist stepped back in fear with wide eyes, and Yao sighed.

"I apologize for his brash behavior," he said.

"Oh, no, it's fine," the flutist said with a smile, shaking his head.

"Is there something you needed him for?" Yao asked.

"Just a little question," the other replied, and looked at Ivan. "Waltz of the Flowers, right? From The Nutcracker?"

"Da!" Ivan said, nodding and smiling. "You are so smart!"

"Oh, great. So he knows the song, too?" Yao said, exasperated.

"You _don't_?" the flutist asked, sounding wounded. "It's one of the greatest pieces in the history of music!"

"I don't have time for Soviet music."

"… Soviet?"

"Damn—err, darn… I meant Russian, aru."

"Oh, wait, you sound Chinese. Well, and no offense, you look it, too."

"I am. What's it to you?"

"So _that's_ why you called it Soviet."

"What does my heritage have to do with that in any way, shape, or form?"

"… Well, China's still communist, right?"

"Why should I have to explain myself to you?"

"It was just a simple question."

"Don't harass me, aru!"

"I wasn't, man!"

"'Man'?"

"H-Hey, look, if you're woman, sorry. You look girly, but your chest is really flat and you're wearing a suit so I just assumed—"

"Oh, so now you're trying to insult my lack of masculinity? I _know_, for Christ's sake."

"I think you're pretty," Ivan butted in.

"I know that, too. You've told me about _ten times_ today alone, aru," Yao sighed. "Listen, kid, it was nice getting to meet you, but my friend here and I really must be going." The lawyer reached into his pocket and pulled out two quarters in loose change. The flutist frowned as Yao handed him the money that would only be worth about two gumballs. "Stay in school."

"… I graduated college," the other mumbled.

"In that case, go use those quarters to maybe bribe someone into giving you a real job." Yao shrugged. "Or get some candy from those little machines they always have in movie theatres, aru. I don't care what you do with it."

The flutist looked at Ivan again.

"Your boyfriend is mean," he said.

"I would use something more along the lines of 'moody'," Ivan answered. "He's awfully sweet to me."

"He's _not_ my boyfriend! That's it—I'm leaving, aru."

* * *

"You didn't have to storm away."

"I'm _not_ your boyfriend. And I'm _not_ moody!"

"Your attitude is not convincing me of the truth behind that last statement right now, comrade."

"Fine. Whatever, aru." Yao stuffed his hands deeper into his pockets and kept his eyes trained on the dirty streets of New York as Ivan followed behind him, burning a hole into his back with that piercing stare of his. "This isn't my day. It wasn't my day yesterday, either. Okay, who am I kidding? This hasn't been my _life_, aru."

"You sound defeated," the prince pointed out obviously, and linked his arm with Yao's just as Heracles's had been with Kiku's earlier. Yao, of course, tried to break the link but Ivan's hold was stronger than steel. "You cannot collapse now, my beautiful empire. You must remember that I, your strong foundation, will always keep you upright, no matter the cost! Da, anything for my fairest maiden."

"Would you quit calling me that?!" Yao hissed.

"No. Will you tell me more about New York City?" Ivan asked.

"Alright. You want to know about New York City? I'll tell you." Yao stopped walking in the middle of the street and many people bumped into him. The lawyer ignored it in favor of pointing out random people and things lining the road. First, he gestured to a man sitting on a box, leaning against the wall. "Do you see that man? The lonely one over there, aru?"

"Da," Ivan responded.

"He most likely has no home, no job, and no family members that are willing to take him in. That, or he does not wish to contact them, or he does not have the appropriate means to." The lawyer then pointed to two men quarreling over a map. "And do you see those two?" Ivan nodded. "If you listen closely, you'll hear that one is speaking Spanish, and the other is speaking English. The Spanish man probably knows no English and will never live out his American dream, unless he wants to mow lawns forever, aru. New York City is the place where people with broken hearts and broken dreams come to drink their troubles away. Actresses on Broadway who, for some reason, are still unsatisfied with their life and dream of bigger and better things, aru. Young women who model, and look impeccable, but starve themselves because they are not as thin as a stick. Gamblers who need help but won't look for it. Smokers who have no idea that their habit will kill them one day. _This_, aru, is where they all live.

"One of the main reasons I keep my job is so that I can look at two people and think, 'At least I'm not them'."

"Why doesn't anybody help those in need?" Ivan asked. "This is horrible."

"Because," Yao began, and gestured widely with his arms to the people continuously bumping into him, "the people who are better off are much too self-centered to care. They keep ramming into me, yet not a single one has said 'excuse me' or 'I'm sorry', aru. They're the ones who are actually thriving in this godforsaken place, though they have no time for the lowlifes beneath them. Why should they befoul themselves to help others? Because they're _all_ horrible, greedy misers, aru." Yao paused. "Well, maybe not all, as I'm sure there are nice people out there."

"… I see," the prince mused. "In comparison to everybody else, what are you?"

"The lonely workaholic who has neither a social life, nor a romantic relationship."

"The last part is simply your fault, comrade. What do you think I have been offering the entire time I have known you?"

"This is the _second day_ we've ever talked, aru."

"Is 'love at first sight' a term also unheard of here?"

"S-Stop messing around."

"Why is that you always believe I am joking? I am trying to project my outright honesty. If there is one thing I do not do, it is… how do you say… beat around the bush? Da, beat around the bush."

"… Because."

"That is not an answer."

"This isn't something to discuss in the middle of a busy street, Ivan."

"So we speak about it somewhere else, da?"

"You want to go back home, aru?"

"If that is what you want."

"Alright. We'll go back to my place—_not_ in the sexual way. You can tell me all about the 'Soviet Union' or whatever."

"Da, Yao!"

* * *

**A/N**: SEE?! ANGSTY. For, like, three paragraphs, but still. I 3 random flute guy who has the guts to talk to Ivan. And then get owned by Bitchy!Yao. OWNED, NOOB. For once, I don't have much to say. Remember my plea for Hetalia-loving friends (since all my friends are dicks who hate anything that has to do with even a semblance of history) the last A/N? My e-mail is on my profile, lovelies :) (That sounded really gay xD) Do e-mail me, because I'd love to hear from you. Also, if you have something to say or want to help me with something in this story, then by all means, e-mail me. Or shoot me a message on here. God knows **Syous99** and I have been messaging because she at first wanted to know about American Catholic schools xD If you find something is really wrong or if you just want to know me, do whatever it takes to contact me :) I don't bite. SWEAR.

Oh, and to those of you who live in/like New York City, I apologize for making broad, sweeping generalizations. I just kind of touched on the bad parts. There are positives about NYC, you guys. Trust me.

I shall plea one last time: TYPOS? (You're thinking, 'Wow, what the hell? Can't an author find her own typos?' Well, I'm a skim reader when it comes to my own stuff. Lame, but true. Sorry, guys xD)

R&R

(I love you all! :D Oh, and my dashes to separate parts isn't working, so... damn it. Also, **Sakura evil twin of Sango**, I love you. You are a LIFE SAVER, dear! I'm so embarrassed...)


	12. Chapter XI

**A/N**: TYPOS, GUYS? OH, DEAR GOD, THE TYPOS... They haunt me. And fuck, I hate angst. It's in the beginning, but thins out at the end ;) (Forgive me, **Saki**, for the angst) Humor, to me, is more important than angst! Laughter is the best medicine, after all. Special guest Receptionist!Canada is back, because we all love him and his clueless tendencies :D Um... **Endo Michiyo** found a typo in my last A/N. Talk about embarrassing xD Also, if you're a lurker on this story, please review! I wanna know who reads this and what they think of it! :D Sorry it took me long to get this chapter out... I'm in Ohio for my brother's college graduation. I have a funny story I'll tell after this chapter ;) Go on, read it!

* * *

"… So, what's the Soviet Union like, aru?"

"Oh, you know…" Ivan shrugged. "Cold."

"I understand that it's cold," Yao replied, rolling his eyes. He sat down on the opposite end of the couch as the Soviet, and pretended not to notice when Ivan scooted down the cushion just to decrease the amount of space between them. The lawyer inevitably ended up being squished into the arm of the couch, and the prince's body was pressed up against his other side. Yao, forever the calm one, let it go in favor of drinking tea and more questioning. So what if Ivan's hand had crept over and rested on his knee? That was easy to be ignored. "But what is it _like_? What kind of people inhabit there? How many friends did you have, aru? You've seen New York City, but I doubt I'll ever be able to see the 'Soviet Union', so try to explain things in depth."

"Da, Yao. Well… let's see," the prince began. "The biggest similarity among my kingdom, the kingdom of China and North Korea—though it is usually referred to as China—and the kingdom of Cuba is that we are all feudalist. America, England, France, and others are modernist kingdoms. America is constantly pushing the extreme modernist movement, but so far it has only _really_ worked for them. And their government is so different, you know. All kingdoms have king and queens, with the exception of America. That is why there is no 'kingdom of America'. It is simply 'the _land_ of America' or 'the United _Lands_'.

"You know what I mean by feudalist, da?"

"Yes, I know what a feudal society is, aru. You mean peasants, then middle class, then the aristocracy? Like… the social pyramid?"

"Da! You are so smart, Yao." Ivan smiled, and Yao promptly choked on his tea when the hand on his knee moved farther up. "The 'modernist' kingdoms are more like your world. There is not much separation of the poor from the wealthy, and they are _much_ more technologically advanced. They even have… what is that box over there called again… a television? Da, a television. Alfred always writes me letters, as I do not have a telephone, and tells me to turn on the television to watch a certain show, forgetting that I, as part of the feudalist Soviet Union, do not have one. It makes me want to break his neck. When I become king, I want to take my kingdom and try to transform it into more of a modernist kingdom. We are so very far behind, you know. The people in England and France drive cars. We ride horses. Americans spend their time watching television and listening the trash they call 'rock-and-roll'. I go to the theatre hall in the Moscow Castle, my home, and watch The Nutcracker for entertainment."

"… So America is basically in the 50s or 60s?"

"… The what?"

"Never mind, aru."

"Da, if you insist. Though it is feudalist, the Soviet Union is possibly—nay, absolutely _the_ best kingdom on the map! We have so much of a wonderful history and culture. Our music is second to none. Oh, and you must see the ballet! Alfred once invited me to his country's interpretation of 'The Nutcracker'. I both wanted to punch him from his attempt to mock my culture and laugh at how horrible it was. As stated previously, my capital of Moscow was, is, and forever will be a cultural center. The only worthy rivals it had at certain points were either Rome or Vienna.

"The scenery is also truly a landscape of beauty. You would blend in quite nicely."

"Really."

"Da, really! I do imagine that you would look pretty while standing out in the snow."

"… Thank you?" Yao shook his head. "And your friends?"

"I have three main friends; Raivis, who is very young and stupid and an alcoholic, Eduard, who is older, very smart, but still stupid, and Toris, who is my _very_ best friend. I do suppose my sister, Ukraine, is my friend but… she has other friends, and most of them are from modernist kingdoms. She spends more time with them than she does with me. But I do not complain. I love her because she is my sister, yet I dislike her more than I despise Ludwig."

"Oh?" Yao set his tea down on the coffee table, and focused all of his attention on Ivan. The need to pry, know it all, and attempt help was so deeply imbedded in him that he didn't even realize he was about to go 'psychologist' on the poor Soviet prince. "Tell me more, aru. Why do you dislike your sister?"

"Because she is _perfect_," Ivan said. "She is not so right in the head, but nobody notices because when she is talking to them or blubbering about something trivial, everyone is too busy staring at her massive chest. Then, whenever whoever speaks to me, they automatically dislike me. I simply do not understand why."

"I'm sure there are some people out there who like you."

Ivan looked at him with big, pleading eyes that resembled those of a kicked puppy dog.

"… Fine," Yao sighed. "_I_ like you. I guess."

"That means a lot to me, fairest maiden," Ivan replied.

"I'm not even going to bother asking this time, aru."

"Good, because I will never stop calling you that. How _much_ do you like me?"

"Enough that I'm letting you sleep in my house."

"Yes, on the couch where Yong Soo and Hong almost had sex. I feel very liked."

"Would you rather sleep on the floor?"

"I'd rather sleep with Yao."

"… No."

"Why not?"

"B-Because! Okay, you know what, aru? This is uncomfortable." Yao set his tea down and shoved Ivan's hand off of his leg. "You and I are from two totally different places, we're two totally different people, and we have totally different ideas as to what the 'social norm' is. No matter how hard you keep trying, and even if I gave in, it would never work out, aru! Get that through you thick skull!"

"Why wouldn't it work?" Ivan asked innocently. Yao didn't answer, seeing as he had practically just explained the answer to that question. "You want to know why I think you are so convinced that our love will never blossom?"

"There is no love to blossom!" Yao answered.

"Da, there is," Ivan disagreed. "You are just much too stubborn to admit it. You are afraid I will leave you like your parents and Kiku did, da?"

"No!"

"Must you always deny your true feelings?"

"I—"

"You do not, of course. How silly of me, to 'assume' things about you. Da, so rude."

"Oh, so now you're being a smartass?"

"Clearly, you are so emotionally stable that it truly astounds everyone you meet." Ivan frowned. "That is the Yao on the outside. But, the Yao on the inside has got to be dissimilar to your façade—an act that is very transparent to me. Why must you lock your true self up in chains? If you are sad, do show it, so that way I shall make you happy!"

"I'm _not_ sad, I'm _not_ 'emo', I'm _not_ full of woe, or whatever else you want to peg me as, aru!"

"At this moment, I think you are also a liar."

"You want to know the _real_ me? Okay, I'll tell you. I think that someday, I'm going to die old and alone with an unfulfilled life because, somehow, I manage to alienate everyone I love, even though every single little thing I do is for them. My parents didn't even like me, aru, yet all I wanted was their approval, and they kicked the bucket before I could tell them that. I tried to keep Kiku from doing something he wanted just because I was afraid he would find success and leave me, and that's _exactly_ what happened. We barely talk anymore, aru. Didn't you feel how awkward it was earlier? Yong Soo is at college most of the year, and when he comes home, he's always doing things with Hong Kong instead of spending time with me, aru.

"And as for you… At some point, you're going to have to go back to the Soviet Union once I figure out how you even got here in the first place, and I'll be alone again. I keep everyone away because I know they're going to go eventually. The end. Was that deep enough for you, aru?"

"… I do not plan on going back the Soviet Union, comrade," Ivan said quietly after a moment.

"Of course you do. Your family and friends are there," Yao said, waving a hand.

"But Yao is here."

"So? You need to go back."

"No, I do not. Ukraine may take over the kingdom. Though the sons usually do, she will be fine. I cannot leave New York City!"

"You have to! You can't stay here, aru. You don't have the credentials. You know, Social Security, a license, a real job…"

"But our paths cannot stray."

"Don't try to charm yourself into staying here with me."

"If I cannot stay here, then Yao will come with me back to the Soviet Union, da?"

"No, aru."

"Why not?"

"Not every question has a definite answer, Ivan."

"This is one that should, Yao. If you come back with me, then you should have no fears about me leaving you! See, it is a wonderful idea. We can just tell everybody that I found you while roaming about in the kingdom of China."

"No, Ivan."

"Is that the only word you know? 'No'? Please, do say 'yes' occasionally. Now would be a good time to try that out."

"You know exactly what I'm going to say in response to that, aru—no."

"Why?"

"Is 'why' the only word _you_ know?"

"This is very taxing on my patience, comrade. Simply answer me this; why won't you allow us to be together? Do not use the 'we barely know each other', or the 'it will never work out because… insert lame reason here', or the 'I have an irrational fear of everyone leaving me, so…' excuse."

"It's not irrational."

"Bad things happened to me as a child, but I am fine now! I have no fears. If anything, people fear _me_. Granted, nightmares haunt me as I sleep, but that little mess is easily able to be tuned out. If you think about it, nobody in his or her right mind wants to be alone. Do you?"

"What would give you the impression that I wanted to be?"

"I will try to think of a good analogy… Ah, one has come. Your heart is like a secret garden, da? The fortress of stone that blocks anyone from entering rivals that of China. I am a climber, attempting to scale your wall, yet every time I come close, a strong wind blows me back. Since I have a lot of determination, I _will_ get over that wall. And once I am over, I will find that the secret garden is overflowing with… what is that flower you mentioned… peonies? Da, peonies. Whether I make it over soon or not is your choice, comrade. But, be warned, if I cannot climb that wall, then I will slowly take it apart, brick by brick."

"… Are you suggesting that I smell like flowers, aru?"

"… Do you 'lawyers' take everything so literally?" Ivan shook his head. "No, I am saying that you put up a barrier, and inside, is the good Yao that loves everybody and has no fears! I will get to the good Yao. You saved me. I intend to return the favor, fairest maiden."

"Fine. I'd like that, aru."

"… Really?"

"Sure. An attractive, though crazy and storybook-esque, man proclaims he loves me. It's a good deal."

"So you _will_ come back to the Soviet Union with me?"

"No. As horrible as this city is, I'm not leaving this place."

"Then I will stay here?"

"If you want, aru. I've kind of stopped caring about ten seconds ago."

"Oh, don't be like that! Da, you care so very much."

"I suppose that's why it all went downhill, hmm?"

"What?"

"Nothing, Ivan. Nothing."

* * *

Yao squinted at the early light as it seeped through the cracks in the shades of his room, illuminating everything in the soft morning glow. Something heavy was draped over his skinny waist and warmth radiated from behind him. Instead of the usual sweet scent of his mother's perfume and his flowers wafting in the air, all his senses were clogged up with the musky smell of outdoor woods and… vodka? The lawyer squeezed his eyes shut and put his pillow over his head. Oh, this was so the creepiest, and still somehow the best, dream he'd had in a long time. He was at least _hoping_ it was a dream.

"Comrade? Are you awake?"

Yao screamed in a totally manly way (not really) and leapt up off of his bed, only to find Ivan looking at him, concerned, and barely covered by the sheets still remaining. It took a moment for everything to register completely. It was bright outside, indicating he'd woken up late. The clock flashing with the numbers seven-thirty could attest to that. But, most importantly, Ivan was in his bed, not wearing clothes. Most women and gay men would have found that a blessing, but Yao was not most people.

"What's wrong?" Ivan tried again.

"Y-You're…" Yao stuttered. The situation was too scary for complete thoughts. "I don't… _How_? I locked the door when I went to bed, aru!"

"You say that as if you think I cannot pick locks," the prince replied, smiling. "Yours is easy to pick."

"So… let me get this straight. You _picked my lock_, slept in my bed without my permission _naked_, and are pretending this is totally normal. What kind of morals did your parents teach you?!"

"But… you accepted my offer of a relationship! Someone told me that people in love share a bed."

"We're not…" Well, okay, Yao did kind of accept his offer, and finishing that sentence would be lying. "But you're not dressed! In _anything_, aru!"

"Oh, is that unusual here?"

"Yes, it is!"

"Yong Soo told me it was fine…"

"Whoa, whoa, wait. _When_ did you talk to Yong Soo?"

"Last night, when I answered the phone and relayed to you the message that he would be staying over Hong Kong's!"

"And you discussed _sleeping with me_, aru?"

"He said, and I quote, 'You should totally sleep with my brother and loosen him up', unquote."

Yao twisted the blankets in his hand, pretending they were Yong Soo's neck. Though it wasn't obvious to Ivan, Yao was pretty sure his brother meant the other kind of 'sleep with'.

"… Okay, well, there's not use arguing over this or else I'm going to be later than I already am," Yao began as calmly as possible. "I'm going to do my morning routine, you're going to put some clothes on, and then I have to go to work. You're coming, aru?"

"Da!"

* * *

"I'll have you know I was a punk back when I was young! I had a band and played guitar and everything!"

"Really, old man? I don't believe you!"

"I swear! I've done stupid things you'd never even think about trying!"

"Yeah? What happened, then?"

"I heard about this new invention called a 'real life', and decided to get one! Maybe you should, too!"

"No way! Being a hero is way more fun!"

"'Hero', my ass!"

"… What's going on, aru?" Yao asked the receptionist as he watched the banter go back and forth between Arthur and Alfred.

"I don't know! They've been doing that for half an hour," the Canadian answered. "What does it all mean? I'm not sure. I don't speak their special brand of homosexual."

Yao coughed. He certainly didn't except _that_ to come out of the innocent receptionist's mouth.

"… Come again?" he asked.

"… You heard that?" the receptionist asked in return.

"Yes, I did…" Yao chanced a glance at the other's nameplate. Oh, right. "Matthew."

"W-Well, I didn't mean anything by it, eh! Most people don't listen to me, s-so…" Matthew shook his head and began rapidly going to through the papers on his desk to appear busy. "Speaking of things, you're late! I was about to call the police and report you missing! You're never late! Everyone here thought you died or something, eh!"

"… That's comforting, aru."

"I didn't mean anything rude by it!" The Canadian floundered around which, in a pretty sadistic way, was kind of funny. "L-Look, you're not really booked for much today, okay? Just the Edelsteins again. Oh, and Tino told me to tell you 'don't be a fool—"

"Yes, yes, I know the end of it!"

"I… don't get it."

"_Condoms_, Matthew."

"… But… You? Why? Ivan's… You're… smaller than him."

"… I am not having this discussion, aru. Good-bye."

* * *

**A/N**: Oh... wait... what's his name again? Right, Matthew. Oh, Matthew cracks me up :D Anyway, that funny story I mentioned. So, my grandfather has a car that can park itself, so he yells at some random college kids playing cornhole, "HEY, YOU WANNA SEE THIS CAR PARK ITSELF?! LOOK, NO HANDS!" And the kids were like, "NO FUCKING WAY, DUDE!" So, yeah. That's about it...

Um, typos? I think I rant about this every chapter. You should get the idea by now, but if you don't, please point out any typos you found? It means a lot to me when people take time to correct me! :) Seriously. Think of it this way. I am England, typos are France. I hate typos, yet typos love me. (But I--err, I mean, _England_ secretly wants in ty--I mean, _France's_ pants) Any other France/England people out there? I like it more than US/UK, but for some reason, I fail at writing France/England, so...

R&R


	13. Chapter XII

**A/N**: YEAH MOAR SPESHUL GUESTZ DIS TIME :D (I bet that just made your eyes throw up) Anyway, since I have an irrational fear of typos, **SolsticeSun** suggested I get a betareader. And, _fuck_, do I feel like a retard for not thinking of that sooner. I already messaged someone and asked, but they haven't gotten back to me yet, sooo... *whistles* This just might be the last time I ask you guys to look out for typos, if the person I messaged accepts ;) (Not telling you who I asked. Se-cr-et~!)

Also:

My Eduard Von Bock can out-sparkle your Edward Cullen any day.

* * *

"… So, who is this?" Roderich asked politely, gesturing to the Soviet towering over him. Ivan seemed very interested in his little hair curl, and kept trying to touch it, so Yao had to have an extremely firm grip on the prince's hand. Was Ivan so devious to have planned it to go like that? Yao certainly didn't care to know. Roderich eyed them both with a weary stare, only accented by the glint coming off of his glasses, while Elizabeta looked like she was just offered a free, stainless steel frying pan. "He seems very… lively."

"This is my friend, Ivan Braginski. He's from Moscow and doesn't speak a lot of English, so…" Yao explained with a shrug.

"Oh. He speaks Russian, then," Roderich said matter-of-factly. "I know a little—"

"No, comrade," Ivan corrected him. "It is _Soviet_. Russia is my horse."

"… I… What?" Roderich asked, utterly confused.

"_Soviet_," Ivan repeated. "That is the language I speak."

"Haha, Ivan, you're so funny, _shut the hell up_," Yao growled, and elbowed his friend in the side. He then added in a lower voice, "It's called Russian over here, aru. Just go with it! I thought you would have caught on by now!" His failed attempt at whispering obviously didn't work, because Roderich lifted an eyebrow.

"Your 'friend'," here, the Austrian added air quotes, "is very unusual. I'm sure he's an interesting character."

"… Interesting. That's it, aru."

"Yeah," Elizabeta drawled out slowly, a terrifying glimmer in her eyes. The leer on her face wasn't giving Yao any comfortable feeling, either. "Let me get this straight, or not; so this guy, Ivan Braginski from Russia, doesn't speak English, yet he comes to America to see you. You're just friends? Or do you mean _really_ good friends? If the latter is true, I totally don't care. Seriously."

"… Fine. We're dating," Yao admitted. He chanced a glance at Ivan, who smiled and waved with his free hand. Rethinking that, Yao said, "… Kind of, aru."

"I knew it!" Elizabeta hollered. "I _so_ knew you're gay. My gaydar never lies!"

"Which is precisely why you're married to a gay man, yes."

"I'll ignore that. But seriously, you're, like, _so_ gay. I told Roderich you were gay, and he didn't believe me! Even Gilbert took one look at you and knew that you're flaming! I mean, your voice and your manners and your uptightness and just, _seriously_, you look like a girl…" Yao frowned. Having the fact he was a homosexual (that didn't voluntarily come out of the metaphorical closet—damn Yong Soo) slapped on his face like a sticker didn't necessarily give him such a good sentiment. Elizabeta grinned. "And Ivan compliments you nicely. He seems strong and stuff. So, he's from Russia? What's a long distance relationship like? Does he top? You know, if we're going geographically, Russia is on top of China, so—"

"That's enough, thank you, aru!" the lawyer spluttered, indignant. "That is a completely inappropriate conversation topic I'm not willing to discuss!"

"So, about that Canadian guy out there, is he gay, too?"

"… Let me guess. Your 'gaydar' told you, aru?"

"No. He was sucking face with some other guy in the hallway."

"Are you kidding me, aru?"

Damn Francis. Raping the receptionist in public places. Disgusting. Yao had been the unfortunate witness of that happening too many times to count, but the most prominent memory being the incident concerning the copy room. Needless to say that alcohol was banned from company Christmas parties (but somehow Francis still managed to sneak in wine and Arthur still smuggled in his rum every year since) and that never again could anybody walk into that copy room without feeling defiled. Now, most people just got Arthur's cousin-slash-intern on the weekends-slash-lackey to copy everything.

"No. I got it on my phone, if you want—"

"I don't want it!" Yao defended himself automatically. "I never want to see Francis and the receptionist hooking up in my entire life again!" That image was forever burned into his retina.

"Sucking face?" Ivan asked. "Sounds painful."

"… You know, making out," Elizabeta told him, brows furrowed.

"What does that mean?" the prince asked innocently.

"Kissing," the Hungarian deadpanned. "With lots of tongue."

"Oh. I would not know about it. My apologies."

"You've never made out?"

"Da. I cannot say I have done this 'making out' that you speak of."

"… But you're dating Yao."

"It is called courting where I come from."

"Whatever. Either way, you're dating, and you've _never_ made out?"

"You seem surprised, comrade. What is your reason?"

"Well… how long have you been dating?"

"It's complicated!" Yao cut in before Ivan could make up anything stupid, or tell her the truth and say 'since yesterday evening'. Elizabeta waved her hand in the air as a simple 'go on' gesture. Shit. Everybody made lying seem too easy—hell, lying to _himself_ was easy as anything—but making up a lie in the spotlight out loud to another person was nervewracking to Yao. "Um… well… we, uh, met while I was visiting Russia a couple years ago… err, two… aru."

"Ooh, really? Foreign love—how romantic!" Elizabeta swooned. Roderich gave her a look that showed he was quite clearly questioning her sanity. But, Yao reasoned, that was kind of his default expression, anyway. The Austrian seemed to have that whole 'I'm surrounded by idiots' aura. "But you haven't kissed?"

"Long distance, like you said. It's kind of hard to see each other when we're on opposite ends of the globe. I'm busy with work and he's busy with… whatever Sov—uh, _Russians_ do…"

"Oh, I'm so sorry to hear that." Elizabeta placed a supposedly consoling hand on his shoulder. "What attracted you to him in the first place?"

"… Uh…" Yao paused. "Okay, listen, aru. When did a meeting about your divorce turn into you giving me advice on my homosexual relationship? Which doesn't even work since you're a _woman_!"

"Chicks can be gay, too."

"You're really making this more awkward than it already is, aru. Please, stop."

"_Please_," Roderich begged.

"Fine, fine," his soon to be ex-wife said flippantly.

"Thank you," Roderich replied.

* * *

"Hey."

"Yeah?"

"Kill me."

The receptionist rolled his eyes amusedly.

"You don't mean that," he said.

"I do, aru!" Yao replied, and looked at the Canadian's nameplate quickly. Oh, right. "I'm not joking, Matthew. I just got grilled about my somewhat nonexistent dating relationship with a guy out of a storybook world by someone I barely know whose own relationship is failing. She seems to like to the fact I'm gay, aru. In fact, she was interested in _all_ our gay relationships. Speaking of blatantly prominent homosexuality, have you and Francis been doing anything you shouldn't in the hallways? And by that, I mean each other, aru."

"W-Well…" Matthew scratched the top of his head nervously. "Eh, you see… No, I have a reason, really… Francis gets like that sometimes."

"Oh, so he spontaneously decides to get aroused at random times of the day?"

"… Eh… He's French."

"Matthew, I thought you would have more tact and save private things for home, _especially_ after the whole copy room scandal, aru. His being French is not always a plausible excuse when someone catches him doing bad things to you." Yao raised an eyebrow. "Is he forcing you to do said bad things? There are always those rape hotlines and psychologists you can call who are willing to help, aru…"

"It's completely consensual!" Matthew told him loudly. The Canadian cowered under the glare of another lawyer for being so noisy. "Oh, maple… L-Look, let's change the subject from my relations, to yours, eh? 'Somewhat nonexistent dating'? That barely makes any sense."

"I'm 'dating' someone, but not really."

"Oh, yeah, how are things going with Ivan?"

"I never said it was Ivan!"

"… It's not?" Matthew cocked his head to side. "But… you stare at him all day… and you always drag him around with you… and he constantly hits on you… and you always respond… Eh, I don't get it."

"Fine. Whatever, aru. It's Ivan. I just can't comprehend this situation. It defies all logic!"

"Arthur's eyebrows defy logic, but they're still on his face."

"… It's always the quiet ones, aru, isn't it?"

"Listen, Yao. I found my prince charming. When are you going to accept the fact that you found yours?"

"Please, never refer to Francis as a prince charming ever again, and imply that you are his princess, or else I think I might throw up from that horrible visual," Yao sighed. "But seriously, I don't get this, aru. He's not my prince charming. Rather, he's my creepy stalker."

"But… it's your… um, 'destiny'."

"Let me clear this up for you, aru, okay? You're telling me that it's my 'destiny' to fall in love with a man who believes he is Prince Ivan The Brave from the Soviet Union, which, by the way, in case you didn't know, _no longer_ _exists_, had a metal pipe attached to his side until I made him take it off, has insinuated that he has used said metal pipe to try and bash a German's head in, dislikes the German mentioned to the point that he wants to, and has tried to, _kill him_, smiles whenever I tell him a sad story or when he's talking about horrible things, aru, wears the clothes of a _very_ dedicated communist, and wants to prance around in a field of sunflowers and swallow bottles of vodka until he pukes. That's not weird to you, at all?"

"… So he's a little off."

"A little off? He's _mentally unstable_."

"You're emotionally scarred, eh! It works!"

"Wow, I feel so loved, aru."

"Don't badmouth the person you're dating."

"We're not _really_ dating! We haven't gone on one yet, aru."

"When's the next day you have off?"

"… I don't have off any day of the week."

"… Really?"

"Really. I'm busy with work."

"Gee… I didn't know that many people wanted divorces…"

"Well, it's a long process, too, but you'd be surprised at the number of failing marriages, aru. I can't wait until I find you and Francis in my office one day."

"… First of all, that's illegal. Secondly, you're mean, eh!"

"So I've heard."

"Oh, you're being so ridiculous." Matthew rolled his eyes. "I normally don't like playing the role of relationship counselor—"

"_When_ did you ever do that in the first place?"

"Tino and Berwald almost broke up once! Who do you think helped them?"

"No way."

That was news. Tino and Berwald were practically glued to one another.

"Yes way," Matthew replied, nodding.

"What happened, aru?" Yao asked.

"Well, I don't know the _whole_ thing, but I know Tino was pretty pissed at Berwald for doing too much overtime at work for a while."

"Really?"

"Yep."

"What was going on?"

"Apparently, Berwald was just trying to save up for a place for them to share, but it's not like he told anybody."

"Oh, that's sweet. In a dysfunctional way."

"Isn't it, eh?"

"Ladies, ladies," a gruff voice interrupted, and Arthur slid next to Yao, resting his elbows on top of the receptionist's desk. The British lawyer held his head in his hands and gave them both an equally irritated stare. It, of course, was rendered ineffective because after working with Arthur for so long, Yao knew he was really just an angry little English man with a short fuse who liked to appear calm. Arthur frowned. "Stop all the bloody gossiping. I swear to whatever god is up there that I feel my testosterone levels plummet whenever I hear you two giggling like five-year-old girls at a sleepover. This isn't some water cooler."

"We don't _have_ a water cooler, aru," Yao told him. "_Some_body decided to get passive-aggressive on it instead of telling us he had some issues with our rather crass comments about his boyfriend."

"I-I didn't mean to…" Matthew mumbled.

"It's fine. We're past that, aru," Yao said.

"I don't care if there's not water cooler. Dear mother of Christ, it was a _joke_, albeit a sarcastic one," Arthur grumbled. He then looked at Matthew. "Alfred, what the hell are doing?"

"… What?" Matthew asked.

"… Arthur." Yao tapped his friend's shoulder and pointed to where Alfred and Ivan were arguing over something by the fish tank. "_That's_ Alfred. This is…" The Chinese lawyer looked at the nameplate on the desk again, just to be sure. "Matthew."

"Matthew Williams!" the Canadian whisper-shouted. "Oh, m-maple… Just forget it…"

"Oh." Arthur's frown grew deeper. "My apologies. You two do somewhat look alike, though…"

"I see it," Yao muttered. "I'm going to go see what Alfred and Ivan are up to, aru. I don't want Ivan to invade Alfred's personal space and snap his neck like a twig for being an 'American' idiot and insulting 'Soviet' culture." Arthur gave him a rather disbelieving look. "No, I'm one hundred percent serious. I can't tell you how many times Ivan called Alfred stupid and said he wanted to punch him for making fun of The Nutcracker."

"You… have fun with that," Arthur said slowly, nodding, and then started talking to Matthew about something Yao didn't care about. As he walked away, he could've sworn he heard the word 'hockey' tossed in, but he must've been hearing things. Matthew, a Canadian, watching and or playing hockey was stereotypically normal. Arthur, an anal-retentive Briton, watching and or playing hockey? Bullshit. Arthur was probably too busy doing his manly sewing, or whatever he called it, to even care about hockey. Yao watched as Ivan slapped a rather put-off Alfred on the shoulder and laughed.

"Oh, _Alfred_," the Soviet snickered quite slowly. "You are so stupid! How your ability to act like such an imbecile does me laugh! What are blathering on about, comrade? I cannot understand due to your trashy American inflection disgracing the archaic language of English! Your accent destroys it so! Arthur, is that his name? Arthur would be offended!"

"Fuck this," Alfred said. "I'm not going to stand here and take your crap, man."

"A little bit… what is that word I am looking for… intimidated? Da, intimidated. You are intimidated by standing near someone with a much higher level of intelligence, da? I am sorry. Shall I… what is that phrase… dumb it down for you? I thought that, surely, even your stupid little brain could comprehend what is being said to you, but I was wrong! Ah, I do believe this is a first! Maybe it is this world's polluted air that is making your stupidity become more front-and-center, comrade. I suggest that once we find a way to return to the grand Soviet Union—but I do suppose 'grand' and 'Soviet Union' are synonyms, da?—you go back at once instead of linger and… flirt, is it? Da, flirt with the man with the very noticeable eyebrows."

"I suggest you take your own advice and quit hitting on rice boy over here. For fuck's sake, Ivan, shove it up your goddamn _Soviet_—"

"Whoa! Let's not finish that, aru," Yao interrupted, then paused. "Wait. _Rice boy_?"

"Don't Chinese people like rice?" Alfred asked. "You guys grow it all the time."

"… So all Chinese people like the Disney movie Mulan and rice," Yao summarized.

"Oh, how stupid of you, Alfred! To make such horrible assumptions about my intended! I assure you that my metal pipe is in need of a work out, and I have no qualms about using it to smash your face," Ivan said, smiling all the while. "And Yao here does not like it when people make presumptuous notions about him from no basis other than the cliché. When you insult Yao, you insult me. When you insult me, you insult my _kingdom_. We have come to a truce, da? A friendship? Do not screw it up."

"_Friendship_," Alfred chucked humorlessly. "Dude, fuck no."

"… I thought you two were friends, aru," Yao said, confused.

"Very good ones at that!" Ivan told him cheerfully, and slung an arm around Alfred's shoulders. The American glared daggers at his Soviet Best Friend Forever (SBFF) and looked about two seconds away from knocking the other unconscious. "We are comrades. The best! He is just mad that I am officially courting you, and that the British man's lips are forever sealed with a 'no'."

"… You like Arthur?" Yao asked. Alfred looked away. "Are you kidding me, aru? Mister 'England-is-so-much-cooler-than-America-yet-I-torture-myself-and-stay-here-anyway-and-act-like-a-sarcastic-foulmouthed-yet-gentlemanly-ass-to-everyone'? _That_ Arthur?"

"He's not that bad!" Alfred argued.

"And here is the part where you come in," Ivan said to Yao. He then turned back to Alfred. "If you want advice on how to… what is that word Yong Soo taught me… score with crazy eyebrows, you should ask Yao, comrade. His favorite word is most likely 'no'."

"_No_," Yao automatically said. Ivan chuckled and muttered an 'I told you so'. The American deflated even more. "I'm sorry, but I'm not telling you how to jump into Arthur's pants, aru. It's going to take you _years_ to do that, unless all that British anger is just a coverup of his sexual deprivation."

"Dirty thoughts, Yao," Ivan warned him with a laugh. "Perhaps you are spending more time with Yong Soo than necessary, da?"

"Oh, remind me to kill him later for teaching you the word 'score'."

"But it is so fun to say, comrade!"

"It's _not_ funny, aru!"

"It is so! You derogate the humor of this world, Yao. But I suppose that makes you who you are?" Ivan released Alfred's shoulder in favor of taking Yao's hand and raising it to his lips. "Ah, so pretty. In personality, also."

"Not in the workplace!" Yao shouted, and quickly pulled back his hand, pretending not to notice the hurt look that flashed in Ivan's eyes for a moment.

"Understandable," the Soviet prince said softly, and replaced the miniscule frown on his face with a smile. Yao scowled at his reaction. Ivan was supposed to be unperturbed by anything. _Anything_, and that included Yao's constant rejection to his advances. The fact that he could make Ivan show any disappointment outwardly gave him an undoubtedly guilty feeling. "You look distressed, comrade. Is something bothering you?"

"… No."

Ivan smiled wider and let it go.

Yao contemplated. Perhaps they were both masters of denial?

* * *

**A/N**: ... Um, serious at the end, much? Haha, YEEAAAHHH. Seriously. Ivan/Yao romance needs to get on a ROLL. And here, it DEEPENS. Yao, you guilty little uptight lawyer, you... I think he needs to listen to Three Little Birds by Bob Marley. Because every little thing... is gonna be all right! Seriously, Ivan needs to pull out, because that stick up Yao's ass is making him a BI-OTCH. (He's sekritly PMSing) You can tell I'm out of things to rant about, so now I'm just making lame jokes. Also, fanart? Somebody e-mailed me and asked if they could attempt to... Hmm... I said sure, so if they get it done, I'll try and link it! Let's see how it turns out :)

Also:

Don't be silly, grab your willy!

Dear **MissRandumb**,

I love you.

R&R

(Haha, I bet you all feel _SPESHUL_ when I mention you in my A/Ns, hmm~?)


	14. Chapter XIII

**A/N**: You all thought I died, didn't you? Ahaha, NOPE. I'm still writing this xD Oh, and by the by, in case you're wondering, "Ohmygod, I'm e-mailing her and messaging her and reviewing and she's not responding! What do I do?" the answer is that I've had a lot of school work to do xD Don't worry! I'll get back to you as soon as I can... I finished my essay and my shark report. Or maybe you're like, "YES, she stopped responding to my reviews. Thank GOD." Well, then, I'm sorry you don't like my lengthy responses xD (I doubt anyone ever reads that shit anyway) I should be back to responding and messaging and e-mailing as soon the week is over! We're dissecting a dogfish shark in school, and that's going to have my full attention. Other than this fic, of course. I figured you guys wanted another chapter more than an e-mail from moi xD ANYWAY. Let me list my accomplishments with this story: 1, Over 200 reviews (I love you guys), 2, Apparently, this was put in a group thing whatever-you-call-it for 'Best Hetalia Fanfictions' (I'm flattered), and 3, this is being translated into Chinese. Um, wow. I love it xD Also, in this chapter, references to events/things/a SNL song are made. There is one at the end about a certain RoChu event. Let's see if you can catch what I was trying to reference ;D

SO. Long chapter is long, because stuff happens. And I mean that.

Oh, and also, everyone give a big round of applause for **Yume Dust**, THE best beta-reader ever :D

* * *

One week. A whole _one week_ had gone by, and somehow, Yao still hadn't killed Ivan yet. The Soviet was as annoying as usual, though it was more of an annoyingly endearing quality the prince possessed. Life continued without halt. Yao still had to go work, and Ivan still followed him and watched the fish in the tank or made fun of Alfred, who had taken to trying to get Arthur to like him more than what was appropriate, and apparently that required massive amounts of stalking. Yao guessed invading a person's personal space was a sport in Ivan's world, as pretty much everyone from there was much too touchy-feely. Except for Ludwig, who attempted to avoid Feliciano like the plague, but still gravitated toward the Italian by some unknown force. Well, and maybe Romano wasn't so keen on public affection, since he screeched like a dying cat whenever Antonio tried to make a move on him. It really wasn't fooling anybody. Yao knew what they did at night.

Perhaps calling Antonio at ten at night to discuss work hadn't been the best idea.

Heralces, too, was rather affectionate for Kiku. Or, at least, that was what Yong Soo had told Yao. Things only managed to get more awkward between the Chinese brother and the younger, Japanese one after Yao found out through Hong Kong's blabbering mouth (probably due to a certain Korean's hand being places it should not be) at dinner that Kiku and Heracles were 'official'. Or whatever bull they wanted to call it. That only meant Kiku was going to work harder to find a way to get Heracles back to where he came from, and if Yao were to be perfectly honest, he didn't want that. It would be a shame for Ivan to leave so soon, especially since a bit of progress had been made.

A _bit_. Only a bit! So maybe Yao had started to warm up to Ivan. It wasn't really that big of a deal. Yong Soo, forever the accuser, decided to bring it out into the open.

"You _like_ him," Yong Soo sang.

The dish in Yao's hand clattered in the sink as he dropped it.

"I beg your pardon, aru?" the lawyer asked, frowning. He inspected the dish to make sure it wasn't cracked, but watched Yong Soo out of the corner of his eye. Of course his little brother had that proud, Korean smirk on his face, but this time, it was multiplied by ten. "What are you looking so smug about?"

"You _like_ him!" the Korean repeated.

"Who?" Yao questioned.

"Ivan." Yong Soo made a heart with his hands. "You're in _love_."

"I am not."

"No, you are. I can tell."

"Really, aru."

"Yeah."

"And who told you I like Ivan? Hong?" Yao rolled his eyes. "No way would you have ever deduced that, because talking to you is like asking Arthur something when he's drunk. You both ramble, you both say something completely unnecessary, you both are usually a waste of precious time, and it's basically a dead end. I'd rather ask a brick wall for directions."

"So you admit to it, then?"

Shit.

"Nope, aru," Yao denied calmly, and went back to scrubbing the dirty dishes. "So you can just go run along and do whatever a Yong Soo does." Yong Soo's mouth opened, most likely to say something cheeky and embarrassing, but Yao cut him off. "Don't you _dare_ insinuate you do Hong Kong. Why don't you just go watch some of your Korean dramas with him, aru? Your spring break is almost over, so make the most of it. Go eat kimchi or watch cartoons or something."

"I'm too old for cartoons!" Yong Soo complained.

"Then you should be too old for whining," Yao answered, "but it seems as if that's not exactly true."

"Do you hate me?"

"No, aru. You're just exasperating. Now, shoo. I have someone to call." Yao set the dish in the rack to dry and wiped his wet hands off with a nearby towel. Yong Soo stayed put in his place, feet firmly planted on the floor. Yao frowned. He really needed to call Antonio, as the Spanish lawyer had told his friend to call him anytime after three ("¡Es importante!"), and it would probably be better if Yong Soo wasn't eavesdropping. "You can go, aru. Absolutely nothing is keeping you here. I'm certainly not."

"… If you're sure," Yong Soo muttered, and left the entire apartment with simply a wave over his back. Yao attempted to think about his brother's last comment, but came up with no explanation other than the fact that illegal alcohol drinking had quite possibly taken its effect on the Korean. College kids were oh, so stupid. Yao would have to remind Yong Soo not to drink, or else he would end up like Arthur. It was, surprisingly, and _not_ surprisingly, an effective scare tactic.

Yao sighed and found his cell phone, calling a number he had committed to memory.

_"¿Diga?"_ Antonio's voice answered.

"… Um… hola?" Yao tried.

_"Yao, ¿hablas español?"_ Antonio asked happily. Yao didn't even get a chance to say that he had no idea what the hell that meant, because Antonio went off on a whole tangent as if he expected Yao to pick up on every word. He was Chinese, damn it. _Not_ Spanish. _"Pues, estoy almorzando… pero tengo que un moment. Rápidamente, favor. Romano, ¿dónde estás? Lava los platos sucios. Ah, lo siento, Yao. Estoy un poco ocupado."_

"I… have no idea what you just said, aru," Yao said.

_"Lo sie—I mean, sorry. I'm just a little bit busy…"_ Antonio told him.

_"Speak English, dumbass! I don't speak fucking Spanish!" _Romano's voice cut through the line.

Yao winced and held the phone an inch away from his ear.

_"You can't pick out what I said? Aren't Spanish and Italian the same in some ways?"_ Antonio asked.

_"Fucking moron!"_ was the Spaniard's only reply.

"… You're just having all sorts of fun over there, aren't you?" Yao asked sarcastically.

_"Every kind!" _Antonio replied cheerfully.

Yao wanted to throw up at the implications.

"Pedophile," the Chinese lawyer said. "How old is he?"

_"Old enough! How old is Ivan?"_

"I don't _know_, aru!"

_"Hypocrite."_

"We haven't even _done_ anything."

_"So __**that's**__ why you still sound so… irritated."_

"I'm hanging up."

_"__**You**__ called __**me**__, amigo."_

"You were the one wanted to talk to me."

Antonio's chuckle was full of static. Yao scowled at his phone. The reception really sucked in the kitchen. That, or maybe still having a cell phone from 2005 wasn't exactly the best idea. His company gave him one of those Blackberry things, but it was more of a hassle than a helpful tool, so now it stayed in a box underneath Yao's bed. Yao _tried_ giving it to Yong Soo, and it worked for a bit, until his boss asked him confusedly why so many calls were made to a certain number—a number that Yao automatically recognized as Hong's.

_"So I was," _the Spaniard mused.

"About, aru…?"

_"Oh!" _More static-filled laughter. _"We should get together soon!"_

"And discuss…?"

_"Well, what do you suppose we do when we find a way to get Ivan and Romano and company home? Wait—are you busy?"_

"Not at the moment, but—"

_"Great, we'll be over in… however long it takes to get to your house! Don't worry. I'll call every__one__ else, too. ¡Hasta luego, Yao!"_

"No, wait—"

Instead of static, the only thing Yao got was a dial tone. For about the first time, Yao had to agree with the Italian prince. Antonio _was_ rather thickheaded. Could anyone's head be filled with so many rocks? Apparently so. The Spaniard insisted on coming over, and it hadn't even hit him that he had no idea where Yao lived.

* * *

Feliciano was the first one to show up at his door, most likely because he lived about a five second walk down the hallway away, but also because he was hungry and wouldn't mind some free food—even if it _was_ Chinese. Ludwig filed in after him, giving Yao an apologetic nod and then said around nothing for the rest of the time. Yao tried to ask him questions, such as 'Do you like it here?', but even _that_ seemed to be too personal, because the German only replied with a one-word sentence. Or maybe he hadn't found the right manual to help him formulate an answer? After Feliciano was done stuffing his face with _all_ of Yao's leftover rice, Antonio and Romano arrived, admitting they got lost many times. Well, it wasn't so much of an admission than it was Romano yelling, "Stupid Spanish bastard has _no_ sense of fucking direction!"

Yao considered that enough of a confession.

Alfred and Arthur then shuffled in loudly, with Arthur yelling at Alfred about something ridiculous. Yao was pretty sure he heard something about tea and coffee being debated. Ivan greeted his friend with a big hug that Alfred so desperately tried to claw his way out of. Yao took pity on him and distracted the Soviet with meaningless conversation so that Alfred could escape and stand behind Arthur, as if the British man was a barrier between him and the scary prince. It didn't really work.

Then, out of the blue, Tino and Berwald showed up.

"Um…" Yao began, holding the door open for them.

"Wow, it's like a party in here!" Tino declared, and tugged on Berwald's hand. "Come on!"

"… No offense, Tino, but why are you here, aru?" Yao asked.

"That is simple!" Ivan piped up. "I invited them, as well as Yong Soo and Hong. They should be here."

"Why?" Yao questioned. "The apartment is already full of people."

"Secret!" Ivan said, winking.

Yao rolled his eyes.

"Hey!" Suddenly, Alfred was at his side. "Since you're Chinese, do you write lots of fortunes?"

"More assumptions, comrade!" Ivan chuckled, and slapped the American on the back so hard Yao could clearly hear the sound when Ivan's glove made contact with Alfred's jacket. Alfred glared at the Soviet, and Ivan smiled. "When will you learn that if you make broad, sweeping generalizations about something of mine—Yao, in this case—that I will undoubtedly hurt in you in some way? Da, we are friends, but it is common for friends to wrestle once in a while. Do correct me if I am wrong."

"Like how you beat me up when I killed your dog?" Alfred said, embarrassed.

"Poor Sputnik, may he rest in peace," Ivan muttered. "Da, what a wonderful example." The Soviet prince grabbed onto his friend's shoulder and squeezed it painfully. Alfred glared more. "Pretend Yao is Sputnik. Insult Yao, and I will bury you underneath the snow of Siberia."

"… So I'm a dog," Yao stated, nodding. "Thank you, aru."

"It was a metaphor," Ivan apologized. "You are not a dog. I do believe human and pet copulation is quite illegal."

"Dude, gross," Alfred complained. "I don't want to know what you do! Bad images!"

"Oh, so now it has become a hobby of yours to surmise things about _me_? I assure you, comrade, that all sexual activities other than the innocent and chaste are to be saved for after marriage. Though religion has no place in my kingdom, I am a strict follower of that belief. Surely, you are, too. Sir Alfred F. Jones, not saving himself for matrimony? Scandalous. Word will spread quickly."

"But you're not going to _tell_ anyone that… are you?" Alfred laughed. "We're friends, _right_?"

"When it is convenient for _you_. But what about for me? Right now, it does not seem so."

"_Don't_ tell anyone. Please, for the love of God."

"I do not love this person named God that you speak of. You do realize that I was joking, comrade, da? You have just, in a way, been duped. See how assumptions hurt us in the end? I assumed you did things that should not be done before marriage, and you admitted it! Not once did I _accuse_ you. Oh, Alfred! You are so stupid, it is humorous!"

"You…" Yao looked back and forth between Alfred and Arthur, the latter shooting the breeze with Hong. Wait, when did Hong even arrive? But that wasn't the point. The point was that very disgusting and rather inappropriate things were being implied by Alfred and Ivan's conversation. "And Arthur… I… You two, aru…"

"It's the jacket," Alfred boasted, flicking up his collar. "Sexy, right? Ladies love the heroes."

"You look stupid," Ivan told him, still smiling.

"You look like a feudalist," Alfred said back.

"At least I do not look like an absolutely imbecilic modernist."

"Soviet."

"American."

"Evil."

"Foolish."

"_Devil_!"

"Court jester."

"Oh, remind me who says _kolkolkol_ or whatever again?"

"Either your memory must be fading, or your capacity to retain things is as small as a pebble. I am going for the second option. _Kolkolkol_ is not as bad as 'I am the hero!' when, in fact, you are quite the loser. _Such_ a loser. It is the _Soviet Union_ who is the hero! Hero of both wars!"

"But I _am_ a hero!"

"Da, and I am secretly part panda bear. Did you see what I did there? Imply sarcasm?"

"Don't make fun of pandas, aru," Yao muttered.

"Being a modernist is better than being a feudalist!" Alfred continued to argue.

"That may be so, as the ideas and innovations of the modernist movement do seem to be highly advanced and helpful, but the Soviet Union is still the best kingdom," Ivan replied. "I am taking my country through the procedures necessary to smoothly become modernist when I become king."

"You need to be _married_ to become king. And old King Winter needs to kick the bucket."

"My father will not be kicking any buckets any time soon, Alfred." Ivan frowned. "I do not understand what you mean."

"You know… die?"

"Why would you want my father to die?"

"… I'm just saying that he needs to pass on before you can become ruler."

"Da, that he does, but I am not looking forward to seeing my father meet his impending end."

"But you don't like him."

"I am not the most… fond of him. He is often bitingly cold to me."

"And how is—"

"Dead. As she has been for many years."

"I was talking about your _sister_."

"Oh." Ivan wrinkled his nose. "She's as she normally is. Not much has changed about her. She still cries like a baby separated from his or her mother. Why do you want to know so much about her? If you are taking interest in her, I swear you will never see another daybreak in your pitiful life."

"Whoa, dude, what the hell? I _don't_ have the hots for your sis—"

"¡Silencio, mis amigos! ¡Todos! Escucha, favor," Antonio called over the roar of people's conversations. Ivan let go of his death grip on the American's shoulder to give his full attention to the Spaniard. Yao nearly passed out when he saw his lawyer friend standing on one of the dining room chairs in order to be everyone's main focus. "Ah, gracias. Yo—"

"English!" Alfred shouted. "This is America!"

"America has no official language at a federal level," Arthur told him.

"Whatever," Alfred responded.

"I bet you are all wondering why I called you here!" Antonio continued. Yao was actually wondering something more along the lines of why couldn't they have had this impromptu meeting at the Spaniard's place, but it was too late now. As he scanned the miniscule crowd hoarding the space in his dining and living rooms, it became apparent that a certain Japanese man and a Greek prince were missing. Well, fine. If Kiku didn't show up, then Yao wouldn't miss him. "It has been around a week since these fairytale characters have appeared. It seems as if Romano found a new development in the case!"

"This isn't the law firm!" Arthur yelled at him.

"Do you want to hear it or not?" Antonio sighed. Arthur crossed his arms and rolled his eyes. Alfred automatically wound his arm around the British man's waist, and Yao's eyes burned with a feeling of indecency when the American's hand on Arthur's waist went lower. He was going to have to rub his eyes with Palmolive after this experience. "Gracias, amigo."

"Ve, what happened?" Feliciano questioned.

"Well, we were in the park, and a bird landed in the pond," the Spanish lawyer explained. "It was pulled under and never resurfaced."

"So a bird drowned," Yong Soo said, shrugging. "What's wrong with that?"

"A duck doesn't just drown the second it hits water," Antonio said. "There's something behind it. I tried to see what would happen if I threw a piece of my sandwich in the water, and it completely sunk."

"That's retarded! What the hell are we doing here?" Arthur cussed loudly.

"Hey!" Tino chimed in. "Use the other 'r' word. _Respect_."

"Patience, patience!" Antonio chuckled. "I just think we should formulate a plan of what we're going to do if, in fact, that pond happens to be the ticket back to their storybook land. Romano has decided to stay here with me, but that's only the two of us. It'd be nice to know what _all_ of us are doing. Though I'm one who very much prefers to go with the flow, I don't think anyone should be making any rash decisions as to go to the other world, or stay here. Once you go, it's not entirely known if there's a way to get _back_, and if you decide to stay, we're not sure if or when the supposed portal in the pond will close." The Spaniard shrugged. "Who wants to go first?"

"I do!" Tino raised his hand. "I just kind of want to know why I'm here in the first place!"

"Because, comrade," Ivan began, and crossed the room to stand in front of Tino. Alfred snickered at their very apparent height difference until Arthur dug into the knight's side with his bony elbow. "Would you rather stay in New York City or go to the other world with those who want to leave here? It is a true fact that marriages between two people of the same sex are recognized everywhere, save for America, but that is only because Americans are stupid. Mister Scary—"

"_Berwald_," Tino corrected.

"Berwald," Ivan repeated, "always calls you his wife. I was just wondering…" The Soviet trailed off with a shrug of his shoulders. "It is ultimately your decision."

"… Well…" Tino looked at his much taller lover, who seemed to have no opinion. "I don't know."

"Take a moment," Ivan said, smiling. "The same offer stands for Yong Soo and Hong, as Yong Soo is the prince of Korea."

"… We'll think about it," Hong replied, emotionless.

"That was thoughtful of you, Ivan," Yao praised the prince as soon as he walked back over the Chinese lawyer.

"Really?" Ivan asked, smiling. "Thank you!"

"You're welcome, aru."

"Alright, alright, everyone shut the hell up!" Romano shouted, shoving Antonio off of Yao's dining room chair before climbing onto it himself. Antonio stared at him, slightly offended but still too dense to realize what the hell just happened. He was on a chair, and the next minute, on his butt on a hardwood floor. "What? If you can't control the room, then I'm taking the fuck over! You're such a goddamn pansy, stupid Spanish bastard! Seriously, everyone, shut the fuck up!"

"You're mean, ve!" Feliciano whined.

"Did I _ask_ for your opinion?" Romano groaned. "Idiot."

Feliciano and Ludwig exchanged a glance.

"Hey!" Romano hollered, pointing at the German. "Don't even fucking look at him, unless you want to eat my fist for an early dinner, potato bastard!"

"… Your mouth is a work of art," Arthur grumbled. "And that's coming from _me_."

"This is getting nowhere," Yao muttered.

"Okay, who's next?" Romano eyed the group. "You, Eyebrows and what's-your-name from America!"

"_Eyebrows_?" the British man repeated, looking like he wanted to throttle the Italian.

"I'm staying here!" Alfred said.

"When did you decide that?"

"The second it came out of my mouth."

"Insufferable git."

"Aww, but you love me!"

"I do _not_!"

"Okay, what's-his-name is staying with Eyebrows here," Romano mentally noted. "Umm… who's next?"

"I am!" Ivan waved his hand. "I am staying here with Yao, da!"

"Wait, you're _serious_, aru?" Yao asked.

"… Did it sound like I was joking?" Ivan replied. "Da, I am staying in New York City with you, comrade. Isn't that what you wanted?"

"What do _you_ want?"

"Whatever you wish for me to do. To be with my fairest maiden, no matter what, is my goal from henceforth."

"Are you _sure_?"

"Positive."

Ivan smiled and grabbed his hand.

The sound of Romano's angry voice and the other's conversations were drowned out due to the massive sound Yao's heart pounding overriding all sense of hearing.

* * *

"… This is it," Yao said, staring at the rippling water of the pond. Romano, standing about five feet away from him, grabbed a rock off of the ground and tried to skip it across the surface. The rock automatically sank the moment it hit the top of the water. Romano then turned around smugly, point proven. Feliciano was about to poke the water with his toe, but Ludwig managed to hold him back at the last minute. Yao frowned. Feliciano would have made a great test subject. The Chinese lawyer then looked at Ivan, who was staring at the pond with a look of longing, yet it also held a touch of resentment. "You can go home, Ivan, aru. Back to the Soviet Union. You're positive you want to stay here? With _me_? For the _rest of your life_?"

"You are only making the deal sound much sweeter to my ears, dear Yao," Ivan said quietly, squeezing the lawyer's hand with much more than force than necessary. He hadn't let go ever since he grabbed it at the house. Yao gave him a rather calculating stare. Indecision wavered in those big, purple eyes and the prince's body trembled. Of course Ivan wanted to go home, but he was staying for Yao. As flattering as it was, and as much as Yao also wanted Ivan to stay, he knew the Soviet wouldn't be happy in New York City for the rest of his life. Ivan had ambitions. An agenda that would turn the Soviet Union into the greatest power in his world. He couldn't leave all his dreams unfulfilled for someone else's sake.

It wasn't right.

He couldn't do the same thing that Yao had.

"… You should go back, aru," Yao said.

"But—" the prince protested.

"We'll see each other again, I'm sure."

"It is not such a high probability."

"Then…" Yao shrugged. "I'll still be in your memories?"

"I cannot leave!"

"It's not fair to you."

"It is not fair to you, either, my fairest maiden."

"I'll be fine, aru."

"Do you expect me to believe that?" Ivan let go of his hand and enveloped him in a hug. "We should have thought about this much, much earlier… It is so dark that the moon is out. It makes you look very pretty, you know. The stars are bright tonight, aren't they?"

"Very."

"Pick one." Ivan smiled. "I will get it for you, as a token of my love."

"Ivan…"

"Oh, for God's sake, this is ridiculous," Romano hissed.

A shove to his shoulder made Yao lose his footing on the gravel surrounding the pond, and he grabbed onto Ivan's coat sleeve for support.

In retrospect, it probably wasn't such a good idea to stand so close the edge where anyone could fall in if they weren't too careful (or if they were pushed).

* * *

**A/N**: Told you stuff happens. I won't ruin the suspense with another long author's note... Hahaha :D


	15. Chapter XIV

**A/N**: Okay, um, my beta-reader hasn't, uh, beta-read this, so... Okay, I can explain. (Don't kill me, **Yume Dust**! I have relatives in your country! D:) I sent this to her awhile ago, and I haven't gotten a reply back yet, and I didn't want to keep you guys waiting any longer, so... Yeah. Speedy updates are my thing. I hate it when authors take forever to update. I DON'T WANT TO BE ONE OF THOSE AUTHORS. SO, YEAH. Haha! :D I love you all. Really. I do!

* * *

"… You… You killed them," Antonio said, looking at Romano. "Why did you push them?"

"Oh, please, they're not dead!" Romano shouted back, rolling his eys. "I was just getting sick of them standing here and whining about how they love each other and yet they can't be together and it was really just a load of total bullshit. So I pushed them in." The Italian prince shrugged. "If they want to blame anybody, they can blame _themselves_ for being so fucking indecisive. Seriously. It made me pissed." The rest of the group remained quiet until he hollered, "Alright, which one of your idiots is going in the pond next?"

* * *

It took Yao a moment to understand what in the world had happened. Both he and Ivan were pushed into the pond by a very impatient Romano… Then, why wasn't he dead? Or drowning? He was laying facedown on something cold, white, powdery, and the substance was also obscuring his vision. Was it snow? Christ, he was frozen to the bone. A hand grabbed his and he was suddenly pulled to his feet quickly. Hands brushed over his clothes and face, and once his eyes were cleared, he could see Ivan looking down at him, concerned.

"Are you okay?" the Soviet asked softly, cupping Yao's face with his gloved hands. "You took quite a nasty spill there, comrade."

"I'm f-fine," Yao answered, teeth chattering. "Where are we, aru?"

Ivan looked around.

"… The forest outside of the Moscow Castle," he replied. Ivan slowly took his gloves off and unwound his precious scarf from around his neck. He would never tell Ukraine that he was letting somebody _else_ use the beloved scarf, unless he wanted to make her cry. It was normally humorous in some morbid way, but the scarf was important to him, too. "Quickly, you must put these on. Hypothermia and frostbite are not the rarest of conditions here, but I do not want you to suffer. I doubt you have ever experienced such low temperatures. Until you become accustomed to it, you should dress warmly, Yao."

"T-Thank you." Yao took the articles of clothing offered to him. "What about y-you?"

"I am used to it. A little snow never hurt anybody, da?" Ivan took his hand and began leading Yao through the forest, weaving around whichever tree stood in his pathway. "We have to get out of the forest. Who knows what kind of creatures lurk here this time of night? Natalia, the evil witch, resides within the depths of the forest, and seeing her is not something I would be terribly thrilled about. Oh!" Ivan stopped suddenly and Yao walked straight into his back. Though the darkness of the night was making it hard to see, Ivan was gesturing for him to look up. "Do you see it? That is the Moscow Castle!"

The trees cast a shadow over the image of the great castle in the distance, making the building somewhat difficult to see. Not to mention Yao was significantly shorter than Ivan, so he had to stand on his toes in order to get a better view. The Moscow Castle was, of course, beautiful in its own way. Ivan smiled, as he always did, and then restarted his walk through the forest. A couple of branches snagged Yao's clothes as he passed and leaves and twigs unnecessarily invited themselves to lodge in his hair.

"As I was your friend from Moscow who did not speak English back in New York City, you are in need of a fake story. Let me see here…" Ivan paused to think. "You are my friend, a scholar who studies the modernist culture from the kingdom of China and North Korea who I met while I was venturing out in China. You do not speak Soviet, and that is the truth, so do not try to engage in conversations with the servants of the castle. The last thing I need is Papa to dislike you more than he automatically will."

"Why will he not like me, aru?" Yao asked.

"Because you are something of mine. Do try to gain his approval by impressing him with information about the modernist movement. I know he is interested in the culture and technology. He only _pretends_ to think modernization is a waste of time because it is _my_ goal to modernize the Soviet Union. Everything I believe is a wonderful idea is always stupid to him."

"You're preaching to the choir."

"… What?"

"Never mind." Yao grabbed his cell phone out of his pocket and used it as a source of light to illuminate the path in the forest. He stared at the full amount of bars on the screen. Well, at least the Soviet Union _somehow_ had really great reception. Just as soon as Yao planned on dialing Yong Soo's number to see what was happening with the others, something rustled in the bushes. Yao held the phone up to shine light on the bushes, and two blue eyes peered back at him through holes. The Chinese lawyer put his hand on Ivan's shoulder to stop him, and pointed to the eyes in the bushes. "… Do you know who that is?"

Unfortunately, Ivan was as frozen as a corpse in Siberia.

"When I say run, we run," the Soviet instructed quietly. "Put your telephone away now."

"Why—"

"_Now_."

Yao closed his phone and put it back in his pocket.

"I don't—" he began, but Ivan squeezed his hand painfully. "Hey, aru!"

"Shh!" Ivan said frantically. "Follow me as you were. Try not to step on any twigs or make noise. Keep your telephone where is it." Ivan began walking again, hesitantly this time, hoping not to crack any random branches or crunch leaves. Yao trailed behind him, trying to be as quiet as mouse, until a stick underneath his shoe snapped in half. The bush holding the person watching them rustled again, this susurration of the plant much louder, signaling movement. Ivan instantly panicked as he heard footsteps that were neither his nor Yao's. "Now, comrade! Why did you step on that? We must run!"

Ivan tore off down the path, dragging his Chinese counterpart with him.

Now, Yao really wished he hadn't seriously failed gym for being a wimp back in high school.

"What's going on, aru?" Yao shouted.

"_Natalia_!" was Ivan's only answer. "Keep running! We cannot afford to fall behind! I left my metal pipe at your house!"

"Natalia?"

"Da! Quickly, move your feet!"

"I'm _trying_!"

"Try harder! It is hard work to pull you when you are not helping!"

"I can't, aru!"

Ivan stopped for about five seconds, picked his friend up, and slung him over his shoulder like a sack of flour before continuing to run away from the impending doom that was Natalia. The offshoots of trees repeatedly hit the prince in the face, scratching him here and there, but it was all worth it if he could save Yao from certain death. There was no doubt in his mind that Natalia would kill the Chinese man for stealing the heart of _her_ prince.

A woman's hysterical scream of 'Ivan!' behind him made him only run faster.

* * *

"Well," Yao huffed as soon as he was let down onto the marble floor of the Moscow Castle, "that was entertaining." He began picking out the leaves and pieces of sticks from out of his hair and off of Ivan's scarf. He reached over and pulled part of twig out of the Soviet prince's hair, which earned him a grateful kiss on the cheek. Yao rolled his eyes in response, for he was used to Ivan's forward nature with him. He noticed the other's face was covered in tiny, hardly bleeding scrapes. "Are you alright, aru?"

Ivan said nothing, and only stared past his shoulder. Yao turned to see what was scaring him so.

"That is my father. King Winter," Ivan said. Ivan's father approached them slowly and stopped right in front of his son, staring him down, not even offering one word of sympathy. Finally, a wonderfully constructed sentence Yao couldn't understand flowed out of his mouth. Ivan responded lightly with a smile, but the lawyer could see the hate raging in those purple eyes. "Papa, please, do speak English. It is the only language that we all comprehend here."

"Do not tell me what to do," King Winter answered gruffly. His heavy gaze landed on Yao, and the Chinese man tried his best not fidget underneath the calculating stare. "Who might this be?"

"Reverse your name, comrade. That is how it goes in China," Ivan whispered to him.

"I know; I'm not stupid. I'm _from_ China," Yao said. "My name is Wang Yao."

"Your highness," Ivan coughed.

"Your highness."

"King Winter," Ivan's father said. His voice was, indeed, that of a respected king's. After a moment, King Winter raised an eyebrow, and Ivan elbowed his friend.

"Bow. You are from China, da?" the prince said.

"My apologies," Yao said, and bowed as told.

"Ah, no, it is my fault for not warning you that we are very old-fashioned and follow the customs strictly here," Ivan said. "Papa, Yao here is a modernist scholar, so…"

"I have heard that is expected of one to bow in China, also. But, as I am the king, you should kowtow before me," King Winter said. "Did you suppose that since this the Soviet Union, you might all abandon all semblance of your manners? Well." King Winter looked affronted. "That is not how things are done in the Soviet Union. Da, syn, am I right?"

"Da, Papa," Ivan answered.

"Why did you bring her—"

"_Him_," Ivan told him not-so-subtly. Yao scowled and decided not to comment.

"… Does it matter? Why is he with you? You have been missing for quite some time, and work has piled up. I suggest you get it done soon, lest you be rid of your potential to inherit the throne."

"My apologies, Papa. Forgive me. I went to China with the hopes of possibly seeing if they would be interested in contributing to the modernist movement, and I met Yao, who, as I stated earlier, is a modernist scholar. He knows a lot about modern culture."

"They allow modernist scholars in the feudalist kingdom of China and North Korea? Shameful. I will have to speak with Emperor Zedong about this."

"Nyet, Papa, Yao was appointed to me by the officials there."

"You speak of him by his first name, as if you two are very good friends, syn. How odd. What is the real purpose of Sir Wang's presence in my castle? And it is so late at night, too. You should be thankful that I happened to be wandering the corridors in this dark hour." Ivan said nothing. King Winter frowned. "You were not given the name Prince Ivan The Brave for nothing, my syn. Surely, you have the ability to tell your dear papa the truth? It is very apparent that Sir Wang is a modernist, but a scholar from China? I think not."

"Play along," Ivan told Yao, who nodded in response. "Fine, Papa. Yao was once a Chinese peasant, but defected to the land of America after they insistently pushed the modernist movement and it caught a bit of wind in the lower region of the social pyramid in China. But, while I was gone, I was studying modernism. I did not lie when said that."

"You were off playing that horrible game of American football with that dim-witted, knightly companion of yours, weren't you?"

"Da, Papa…"

"And Sir Wang is here because? And he is wearing your scarf and gloves why?"

"Well…"

"Lie once more and I will call for a carriage to take Sir Wang back to America. Or China. Wherever he truly resides. Choose your words carefully, syn."

"He is my betrothed, Papa."

Yao looked at Ivan, surprised at how easily those lies came. King Winter mimicked Yao's stunned expression, only multiplied tenfold.

"When you told me that you were off running about in the forest with your friend Toris, you were really off courting this man?" King Winter reached out and pinched Yao's cheek. "I am disappointed in your ability to deceive me so easily, but I do not think you could have done any better. Sir Wang's beauty is very pleasing to the eye. And he shares your modernist views? How coincidental. He is truly fit for you, syn."

"… What?" Ivan asked. He really hadn't expected his father to praise him. This wasn't good. His father _never_ approved of something other than war—stupid warmonger.

"It was about time you found yourself a spouse," King Winter continued. "A king cannot rule alone."

"You do."

"And whose fault do you think that is?" Ivan met King Winter's glare head-on, giving his father a taste of his own nastiness. When would the king stop assuming that it was Ivan who had caused his mother's death? "This is not an appropriate conversation for right now. Plans for a celebration must be made. Ivan, syn, hurry along to your bedroom and sleep. I wish to take Sir Wang—no, _Yao_, on a little walk around the castle."

"Papa—" Ivan protested.

"I will lead him to your room once we have finished speaking," King Winter said. "Go to bed."

Ivan gave Yao a sympathetic look before glaring at his father one last time, and nodded.

"… Da, Papa," the prince finally consented. He took Yao's hand and kissed his knuckles softly, then stomped down the hallway without another word. King Winter raised an eyebrow.

"Well," he mused, "peculiar."

"Oh, no, aru, he does that," Yao answered.

"Oh?" Ivan's father's eyes bore into his, as if trying to pry answers from depths he couldn't reach with cruel words. Suddenly, the king reached out and grabbed Yao's chin, tilting his head forcefully upward. "Hmm. How lovely. Quite oriental, aren't you? You are like a little porcelain doll, if I may say so myself. And I do." King Winter smiled. Apparently, the ability to smile without warmth or affection at an enemy was an inherited trait, because the threatening grin on his face somewhat resembled his son's. Yao stayed still obediently, for the fear the other would smash his face if he tried to break free from the painful hold. "Tell me, what would attract such a wonderfully lustrous diamond to one forever destined to be in the rough?"

"Th-That's personal, your highness," Yao said.

"Too personal for one who is to become your father? Nonsense. The conservative ways of the Chinese run in your blood, though you became a traitor and allied with the land of America. I understand. And, please, call me Papa." The grip on Yao's chin tightened when he tried to pull the tiniest fraction back. "Do listen closely for a moment, Yao. There is something important that needs to be said. A boundary to be established. A thought of mine that must become clear."

"Yes… Papa?" The word was disgustingly foreign on his tongue.

"I will not play your game." King Winter's eyes hardened like ice. "This… whatever you are doing with my son. You are trying to play me for a fool? That was a rhetorical question, so do not answer. Not once has dearest Ivan ever been able to look at me and say something so _straightforward_. Earlier should not have been any different. Perhaps your presence is overwhelmingly empowering and gives him courage? Or, perhaps, he was lying through his teeth? Lying is not tolerated. Subterfuge is not tolerated. If I find out that this whole 'act' is a fraud, repercussions will be had. Do I make myself clear?"

"It's not an act," Yao assured him quickly. "I would never lie about my…" He paused, trying to subconsciously digest the words without throwing up before saying them. "… um, engagement to your son. He's really… great, aru."

"You speak hesitantly."

"Just trying not to embarrass myself."

Yao could honestly say it wasn't working. King Winter was downright piss-worthy.

"Well." The king nodded and let go of his chin, taking a step back. The Chinese man automatically rubbed the spot where the king's fingers had such an unrelenting clasp. It throbbed. No doubt would a bruise form. Yao hoped to the almighty power above that he wouldn't run into any of his friends, or else they would probably take the bruise the wrong way and assume extremely untrue things. King Winter held out his hand and gave Yao a forced apologetic look. "It was nice speaking with you. I feel that our relationship is bound for greatness. I will take you to Ivan's room. Unless a guest room would be to your liking?"

"No, aru… I'll just stay with Ivan."

Ivan's father simply rolled his eyes and muttered under his breath, "_Modernist_. The spreading of the sexual revolution disgusts me."

* * *

"Here." King Winter roughly shoved his future son-in-law into Ivan's room with a harsh push. "Now, syn, what do you say?"

"… Thank you, Papa," Ivan responded automatically like a tape on a loop, and all but slammed the door in his father's face. A muffled grunt of 'good night to you, too' came through the door, but Ivan ignored it and said nothing until the sound of retreating footsteps faded. The Soviet prince placed his hands on both of Yao's cheeks, twisting and turning the other's head in order to search for injuries. "Did he do anything to you? Say anything rude? He is definitely not known for hospitality. Or wonderful personality. He is mostly renown because of his lack thereof. If he hurt you…" Ivan lifted Yao's head and spotted a red mark on his chin. "What is this?"

"It's just a little bruise, aru," Yao said, gently pushing the other's hands off of him. "I'm fine."

"So he _did_ hurt you?" Ivan asked, grabbing his shoulders instead. "I suddenly have no qualms about taking my pipe and bashing his head in until it breaks open. Maybe it is full of candy?"

"Whoa, there," Yao began nervously. "He's your _father_. You can't kill him. That's just wrong, aru."

"Da, I agree with you in the aspect that it is immoral, but he is well-deserving of it. Nobody hurts you and manages to crawl away unscathed, even if it is my own father. I dislike him, and he dislikes me."

"Why?"

"… It is a very sad story."

"You've listened to just about every tale of woe about me that I can offer, so it's only fair that I do the same, right?"

"Alright, then. Only if you are sure that you do not mind listening."

"Positive, aru."

"Are you certain?"

"… Is this your roundabout way of telling me to mind my own business? Because, _yes_, for the last time, I'll listen to whatever dark secret or event that has made a huge effect on your life, and whose scars make your heart look like a scratching post. Though that was very sarcastic, I meant every word, aru."

"Well…" Ivan shrugged. "I will start it with 'once upon a time', as most stories about princes do, da? Once upon a time, there was very happy king and very sweet queen. They already had a daughter, and were quite content with her, but with the knowledge that men usually took over their kingdom, they decided to have one more child. The queen died giving birth to, finally, a prince and heir to the throne of the Soviet Union. The king's heart turned as cold as ice by the death of his beloved wife, but he remarried later. Who do you think that prince was? You are correct in assuming that the story does not end with 'and they all lived happily ever after'."

"… That… I…."

"Words fail you, I see. They fail me, too. It is hard to describe it. The feeling." The grip on Yao's shoulder tightened significantly. "I hope you can relate in some way. Years and years of abuse, torture, and the name-calling… Years and years of not having anyone there to care for you—not even your own family. Year after year _after year_ of hatred."

"… Well, um, I guess so… I'm, uh, here if you need me, aru."

What was someone supposed to say in reply to that?

"Hmm." For some reason, a smile broke out on Ivan's face. "Maybe there is a 'happily ever after' for us in sight? "

Yao had nothing to say in reply. Instead, in a rare show of an outward emotion other than irritation or the occasional cheerfulness, he tugged the prince close and hugged him. Of course, Ivan was stunned, as he wasn't expecting anything borderline romantic from Yao, but accepted the kind gesture anyway. Who was he to complain? No words were exchanged. The only prominent sound was Yao's sudden inhale when Ivan placed a hand on his cheek and leaned in close, _so close_, and—

The phone rang.

Yao decided the first thing he was going to do when he got home was smash his cell phone to bits with Ivan's pipe, personally.

"Let it go," the prince whispered. "Whoever it is can wait."

"I don't think so," Yao answered, and slowly pulled out of the embrace, giving Ivan one of the most regretful looks he'd ever shown and mouthing 'Sorry'. Ivan nodded, pretending to be understanding, and looked away. Yao ripped the cell phone from his pocket, and, restraining from the urge to throw it against the floor, opened it. "What the fuck do you want?"

_"Ooh, you're a naughty boy, Yao! What a bad mouth! Do you need a spanking?"_ Yong Soo's overly delighted and perverted voice crossed the line.

So much for it being an important call.

"If this isn't important, aru, I'm going to punch you the next time I see you," Yao hissed.

_"Were you busy or something?"_

"Gee, was I busy? I'd say that, _yes_, I was just a tad bit busy. Thank you for interrupting something _extremely_ important and possibly life-changing, aru. I applaud you."

_"Don't be so mean!"_

"Did you call just to be an ass or what?"

_"No, that's Hong!"_

"I… never heard that. Why did you call this number?"

_"Because it's your cell phone?"_

"Wow, I never would have guessed that, aru."

_"Look, where are you?"_

"The Soviet Union, apparently."

_"So it __**does**__ lead there."_

"No, it actually leads to Neverland. Did you figure out a way for me to get home?"

_"No, but maybe if you click your heels and say 'There's no place like home' you'll get back?"_

"I don't think—"

_"That you're in Kansas anymore?"_

"This conversation has gone, and is going, nowhere. _Why_ did you call?"

_"So I'm not allowed to worry about you and make sure you didn't die?"_

"I'm fine, aru. Well, I _was_ fine, until you called. You have the worst timing, you know that?"

_"What crawled up your butt and died?"_

"Don't call me until it's something serious. Good-bye, aru." Yao flipped the phone closed, turning his attention back to Ivan. "Listen, I'm really sorry about—"

"No, do not try to explain," Ivan said, and held up a hand. "It is obvious that your going back home is more than… me. You. Us. I shall not stop you."

"No, Ivan, that's not—"

"'Not what you meant?' Then what, exactly, did you mean?" Ivan sighed. "Do not answer. We must sleep, for it is late. You may join me in my bed. Things will be left to be discussed in the morning. Good night."

* * *

**A/N**: AHHH YONG SOO WHY D: It seems as if _all_ the Asian brothers are cockblockers! Oops, I never said that ;D Maaaaan, this is _finally_ getting somewhere! Yay! I bet you're all like, "Final-fucking-ly." Anyway, I bet a lot of you are going, "WTF. Where is Japan?" Well, good news! He should be here soon! Maybe next chapter... or the one after that... but yeah! Let the cheering ensue. By the way, anonymous reviewer **Anna**, I kind of referenced you in this chapter! :D Did you catch it? No? Awwwww. Kidding, kidding.

Oh, and anyone catch my (not) hilarious history joke? _Please_ tell me you did...

Also, I have started another fic, that is America/Canada, so it might take a bit to update this, since I will also be writing that one. You're gasping right now, aren't you? "America/Canada? _What_? I thought she was dedicated to Russia/China!" Well, I am. I just love America/Canada a lot. My fic is entitled Life Is Unforgiving. Russia/China will be in there eventually. If you like America/Canada, check it out, if you've got time :) Also, kind of thinking of a Russia/China Rent-type alternate universe fic to do after this one is finished. Well, you know, minus the HIV and AIDS and drugs and death and _pretty much_ everything that makes up the entire plot of Rent. I have all my idea phase fics posted on my profile, including the Rent one. So, yeah. If you like any ideas of mine, shoot me a message :) Also, if you've got any ideas for a fic, shoot me a message :) I dunno if I should steal--err, I mean, use Rent for inspiration, or another Disney movie. Ideas?

Wow, long author's note is long. Total bullshit. I'm such an asshat. Sorry, you guys. I just couldn't contain all of this, because I was silent for the most part at the end of the last chapter.

R&R


	16. Chapter XV

**A/N**: Alright, kiddies, **prayingforlove** and **Yume Dust** are back in business! Please enjoy this beta-read copy of Enchanted- Chapter XV (15).

Oh, and haters/flamers, back off. If you don't want to say what you have to say in a review, so that way OTHER people can read your nasty comments, then you're a coward. Thank you.

And another thing, I came up with something _great_. **The RoChu Revolution**! (Please tell me that's not the name of an LJ community or something) Who wants to join? Anybody? ANYBODY? No... D'aww... Kidding, kidding. Here's my plan; us RoChu fans need to band together and flood FF with lots of RoChu fics! Even if you don't think you can write, give it a shot! :D If you do write a fic, then send it to me! :D But, really, you guys. Writing is fun! I used to hate writing, and now look at what's happened. My computer is full of secret RoChu smut (See that rating over there? It's T because I don't like sharing my smut. Well, maybe if you guys persuade me... Who knows what will happen...? Meh, maybe next time) and KoHo smex. Really, I want to inspire other RoChu fans out there to get writing and get known! :D I surely hope I'm known around here for this awesome fic ;D Kidding, kidding.

Also, I finally caught up with the times and got an LJ. I'm marlenacecilia. You can friend me :)

Long chapter is long, because shit happens. Bordering on 5,000 words here. My Document Uploader said this 5,700 words. It's not, guys. Sorry.

I would like to thank **lady-ribbon **and **Stitch-patch** for inspiring some of the later events in this chapter. Hint: It involves King Winter.

* * *

Despite the fact he almost wanted to destroy his cell phone with all his strength, Yao was reminded that it was actually pretty handy once he realized that he was missing from work, and no doubt Tino or Matthew was having an issue with that. Matthew had all but called the police last time he was late to work. Tino would probably cry, which would force Berwald to do something and be the, quote, 'most awesome boyfriend ever'. In order to let Berwald avoid an onslaught of Finnish tears, Yao grabbed his cell phone and called Tino, just to reassure him he wasn't dead.

_"Hello?" _Tino answered after the first ring.

"Tino? It's Yao, aru," Yao said.

_"Yao! What's up?"_ Tino's voice came through the line, minus the usual sputter and crackle caused by crappy reception. _"Do you need something?"_

"… Do I need something? I don't suppose you've noticed that I'm not at work yet?"

_"Of course you're not! You're busy frolicking with your prince in the Soviet Union!"_

"How—"

_"Your brother told me."_

"That explains it. Listen, could you record somewhere that I need a few days off, aru? I don't know when, or how, even, I'll be getting back."

_"Nope!"_

"Excuse me?"

_"I can't, because guess where I am!"_

"Oh, did I interrupt Berwald's 'Tino Time', or whatever?"

_"No! You would have known by now if you did."_

"So, where are you…?"

_"Wait for it… I need a drum roll." _A pause. Yao waited with a confused expression on his face. _"I wasn't kidding! I need a drum roll! Berwald!" _There was a buzzing sound in the background, probably the best drum roll-esque noise the Swede could manage since he never opened his mouth unless he was making out with Tino, and finally Tino's overly excited voice blasted through the speakers. Yao pulled the phone away from his ear, feeling his eardrums explode. _"I'm in the kingdom of the Nordics!"_

"… No, aru, please tell me you're not."

_"Is my being in this world a bad thing?"_

"… No, it's just that… Damn it, Tino… Now what am I supposed to do?"

_"All you think about is work, work, and more work! I, personally, think that you're supposed to calm down and enjoy your stay in the Soviet Union. With Ivan. Your soul mate!"_

"He's not my soul mate!"

_"I hear lies, Yao!"_

"I'm not lying! You're… You're just being difficult, aru!"

_"Yeah, __**I'm**__ the difficult one. At least I tell Berwald I love him every day! You say nothing. If you're so worried about work, just call Matthew. I know he's probably not here."_

"No. I can never hear his voice clearly over the phone… He doesn't speak loudly enough."

_"This is true. Well, on the brighter side of life—as in my life, not yours, since yours is obviously a deep, dark abyss that you won't let Ivan pull you out of—guess who's going to get married!"_

"_Please_ tell me that's not already spreading. Look, it's not even true! He didn't even propose, aru! A-And if he did, it's not like I would say yes!"

_"… What are you talking about?"_

"… So you didn't hear. Nothing. Pretend I never said anything, aru."

_"But now you've already __piqued__ my personal interest! Tell me, tell me! What's going on?"_

"Ivan lied to his father and said we're engaged so that he wouldn't kill either of us. The end."

_"Do my ears deceive me? I believe those are wedding bells I hear in the distance."_

"You're funny."

_"I try. So, is this, like, a shotgun wedding thing?"_

"… What? No, that doesn't even—"

_"I __**told**__ you not to be a fool. So he didn't wrap his tool, huh? And now look at what's happened."_

"Tino—"

_"Well, the damage is already done, so—"_

"_Tino_! Would you kindly shut up, aru? This isn't a shotgun wedding because I'm not pregnant. That's not even possible! We never had sex. And we're both men! How badly did you fail biology, aru? We're _not_ going to get married. This is all just a farce, aru."

_"Aww, and here I was looking forward to being Uncle Tino to little Yao or little Ivan."_

"I think you need to assess what you just said and think some things over for a little while, okay?"

_"Yao, I hate to be a party crasher, but your feet of depression are treading on my good mood."_

"Sorry, sorry, aru. So, who's getting married? _Don't_ imply that I am."

_"Me, of course!"_

"… Congratulations, Misses… How do you pronounce his last name?"

_"I'm not a 'misses'! I'll be __**Mister**__ Tino __Väinämöinen-Oxenstierna!"_

"Wow, aru. That's all I can offer."

_"Yeah, well, you're one to talk, Mister Wang-Braginski!"_

"I told you that I'm _not_ marrying him!"

_"Ivan and Yao sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G. First comes love, then come marriage—wow you guys have already almost completed two things—and then comes a baby in a baby carriage!"_

"We _just_ discussed the improbability of all that happening."

_"Nu-uh, somebody over here told me that last part could __**totally**__ happen!"_

"It can't, aru!"

_"You don't know the ins and outs of this world."_

"Maybe I don't, but I should think common sense applies here, too!"

_"Because being shoved into a pond by a crazy Italian and ending up in the Soviet Union definitely applies to the rules of common sense. Yep. Just remember, Yao; don't be—"_

"No, I am _not_ a fool, and I will _never_ be wrapping my tool!"

_"Your words wound me so."_

"Good-bye, Tino."

_"No, wait—!"_

Yao hung up.

"It seems as if someone is a little more than irritated today, da?" Ivan's voice was suddenly close to his ear. Maybe a tad bit _too_ close for comfort. Yao whipped around and was about to sock the space in front of him until he realized it was only the prince who had snuck up on him. Ivan chuckled at his fright. Yao frowned. The main reason he was wandering around the castle in the first place was to avoid the prince of the Soviet Union. Great, now he was caught.

"Nice to see you, aru," Yao said, and greeted him with a nod.

"Before I say anything, I want to assure you that you are correct in assuming that common sense does apply to that particular topic of… where babies come from… Da, well, we should stray away from that potentially awkward topic." Ivan sighed. "I have been looking for you for about the past half hour. Where have you been? I have something I have been meaning to say to you since we awoke, but you took off before I could even tell you good morning…"

"Sorry. I was… busy," Yao lied.

"With?" Ivan pressed.

"Work," the lawyer tried.

"Oh. It seems to me that you were also busy with lying."

"Fine."

"So you are lying?"

"Yeah, aru."

"What were you doing, then?"

"Talking to Tino."

"I surmised that much on my own, thank you. That horrid telephone… Portable telephones will never become available in the Soviet Union while I am king. They ruin important moments, da? Do you agree? I surely hope you do."

"I—"

"No, no! Wait!" Ivan held up his hand. "I did not mean to make you feel bad or guilty or any other negative emotion that I did last night. I was searching for you in order to apologize to you, face-to-face, and possibly redeem myself."

"Ivan…"

"No, I am not finished! I suppose that… I acted rashly? I must confess that I am terribly, terribly jealous. Your job and getting work done and berating Yong Soo and moping over Kiku and yelling at Tino via the telephone and, right now, getting home are the most important things to you. I do believe that, currently, my name is not on the list of important things to Yao. For all things, my overreaction and lengthy confession, I am sorry. Am I forgiven?"

"Yeah, I guess, aru… But… you're important to me. How could you think you're not?"

"I stood here and listened to you tell Tino multiple times that I am not your 'soul mate', that you do not wish to marry me—and even if I proposed formally, it is not like you would say yes—even though this betrothal is simply a cover, and I think I heard you say something about wrapping tools." Ivan placed his hands on Yao's shoulders as he did the night before, but made no move to instigate any further interaction. Though Yao could feel the heartache radiating off of the prince in waves, he said nothing. Ivan smiled sadly. "I am resigned, Yao. Most fairytales do not end until the prince and the fairest maiden fall in love, but it seems as if we must close the cover on this one a little earlier than I anticipated. I will help you find a way to get back home. I will, in fact, not go back with you. You were right when you said that this is my home."

"B-But…" Yao floundered. Ivan, who always invaded his personal space, who always told him he was pretty, who pretty much loved him in every sense of the word, was _defeated_? It was unimaginable. Those things listed were starting to become constants in Yao's life that he appreciated more so than others. Ivan just _couldn't_. "I thought you loved me, aru."

"I do. And do you love me?"

Yao paused.

"I…"

"See? That is where the problem lies."

"But home is where the heart is!"

"Is that another one of your sayings that I have yet to learn? Da, I understand it. Let me help put things in a perspective using that phrase so that you will comprehend what I mean. Home may be where the heart is, but when your heart is already falling out and your home rejects you every time you make an advance or get one step closer, all hope is crushed and you retreat back to your other home, where you came from. Are you starting to get my point of view on this subject?"

"I don't _reject_ you."

"We seem to entertain very different definitions of the word, then. Listen, Prince Ivan The Brave will become nothing more than a forgotten chapter in the life of Wang Yao. Or Yao Wang, in America."

"I could never forget you, aru. Especially not if you stayed with me!"

"Your words warm my icy exterior so, but knowing that your thoughts are only spur of the moment makes it freeze over again."

"They're _not_ spur of the moment! Do you even know what that means?"

"And now you are insulting my intelligence? Though he is quite stupid, Alfred has taught me many commonly used English phrases."

"Sorry, I wasn't trying to insult you."

"I suppose I must say 'sorry' too, for assuming your intentions."

"What is up with you and assumptions? You hate them, probably because I hate them, and yet, aru, here you are spouting extremely untrue things you figure are correct. When did I say to you that I didn't want you to stay or that you're not important to me?"

"Actions speak louder than words." Ivan let go of Yao's shoulders and instead took one of his hands. "This conversation should be dropped. All points of yours and mine were made." _That_ smile broke out onto his face. The one that was as cold as the temperature outside. The one that made him look like a spitting image of his monstrosity of a father. Yao attempted to pull his hand back, wary of the other just a bit, but Ivan's grip tightened considerably. "Come, you have yet to meet my other friends!"

"Whoa, whoa, _wait_. You're just stepping around the issue here."

"There is no issue." Ivan tugged on his hand. "Come on!"

"There's a _big_ issue, aru."

"Let me be frank for a moment. I love you. You do not love me. I am hurt and saddened, so to save myself from my heart breaking further, I have chosen not to stay with you. Granted, my heart will not break, but my limbs will when Papa finds out everything was… what did you say… a farce? Da, a farce, but I will be fine as long as you are happy and away. See? I understand the situation. It is easy. Everything is settled. Though I normally force others in order to get what I want, and or deserve, forcing you to have feelings you do not would pain me in the end. More so than you have already." The prince nodded. "Now, we must go! I bet they're waiting for me somewhere…."

"Ivan—"

"Yao." Ivan looked at him sternly. "What more could you possibly want? I have spelled it out for you in the most honest way that I could think of. Would you rather I write it down and give you my outline of this situation in note form, so that way you may study and ponder it even more? All of my chess pieces have been captured. You won the game. Celebrate your victory. This nuisance will bother you no more with silly tactics and moves."

The prince turned his face away and chose to look down the hallway instead of at Yao. An impulsive 'I love you' was about to rip its way out of the Chinese man's throat, but he kept his lips pursed. Did he feel something more than friendship and attraction for Ivan? He didn't know for sure, and, as the Soviet implied earlier, spur of the moment words helped no one in the long run. If Yao said those three words in his desperation to keep a close bond with the other, only to find the spark was imaginary, it would only ruin whatever was left of their poor excuse of a 'relationship'.

But…

Ivan, who he definitely liked, maybe loved, was planning on _leaving_ him.

As everyone he'd ever loved had done.

Ivan probably knew he was pulling the same stunt his parents, Kiku, and occasionally Yong Soo did. The prince tried his best to insinuate that he was doing the same thing without flat-out saying it.

That cut deep.

"What is wrong with you?" Yao snapped, pulling his hand out of a startled Ivan's hold.

"Me?" Ivan asked.

"Whatever happened to the 'If you come back with me, then you should have no fears about me leaving you!' Ivan?"

"He realized that this was a battle that was lost from the beginning."

"I like the old Ivan better, aru!"

"Why?"

"He didn't tell me I was a 'lost cause' or a 'heartbreaker'. Or am I just _assuming_ things?"

"Yao—"

"You know what, Ivan? _No_. I'm not going to stand here and listen to this, aru! _I'm_ breaking _your_ heart? Well, _fine_, then! Just know you're doing the same for me."

"In what way? It is not as if—"

"It's not like I care about you, right? Because you're not important to me? Yeah, aru, _sure_. Pardon my language, but that's an absolute load of bullshit! Here I am, caring for yet _another_ person who wants to run away from me."

"Well, here _I_ am, loving someone who does not love me back. Like always."

"I _never_ said that I don't love you, aru."

Ivan's eyes widened.

Yao kicked himself mentally.

He definitely didn't mean to say that.

"… L-Look, I didn't…" he stammered.

"… Right… Of course not, comrade," the other said in reply, albeit a bit nervous himself.

"No, I mean…" Yao covered his face with his hand. "I just meant to say that _maybe_—"

"Brother, brother!" a voice wailed from down the hallway.

Yao was going punch whoever it was. He was _this_ close!

He was cut off when someone suddenly lunged onto Ivan and hung off of his back, making him stumble forward. The prince was about to make a grab for his metal pipe, but then remembered it wasn't there. That, and he could feel the sheer size of Ukraine's large breasts pressing against his back and hear her sobbing. Her large crocodile tears were staining his precious scarf. Gingerly, Ivan turned and pushed the crying Ukraine off of him, only to have her grab him in a hug and refuse to let go. He mouthed a 'Sorry' to Yao, who shrugged in response. Well, it seemed as if the Soviet prince was stuck in almost the same situation Yao was in last night.

"What is wrong?" Ivan asked.

"Oh, brother!" Ukraine wailed loudly. Yao was tempted to plug his ears. "You are getting so grown up! Someday, you will have no need for your big sister! I am so sad! This should be a happy occasion, but… but…!"

"What happened?" the prince queried, concerned.

"Papa and I were planning your engagement celebration, and I realized that you were getting so old and mature and no longer in need of a big sister to kiss your cuts and scrapes because you'll have a wife to do that for you and later a family you'll need to do it for… and… I'm so sad!" Ukraine burst out into another fit of sobs.

"Celebration?" Ivan repeated.

"You're _kidding_ me," Yao groaned.

"Ukraine, please, settle down. Would you also let go of me?" the younger Soviet sibling asked politely.

"Okay…" Ukraine unwound her arms from around Ivan's neck and stepped back, finally allowing her brother to fully breathe again. "Papa wants to see you two to make sure all the details are correct. That's why he sent me here. And I also wanted to get a look at your fiancée, brother!

"… Um, hello, aru…" Yao said to her, waving. "That would be me."

"Wow!" Ukraine reached out to give him a hug, but Yao stepped back before she could crush him to death. Those breasts of hers were nightmare-inducing and looked like they would suffocate him. Tears started to form in Ukraine's eyes, so Yao hurriedly tried to make her feel better.

"It's not that I don't like you, I'm just not an affectionate person!" he tried to reason with her.

"Hug her!" Ivan whisper-yelled and gestured frantically to him. "Or else she will cry again!"

"… Fine."

"Yay! Come and hug your future sister!" Ukraine cheered.

Yao opened his arms and cringed when Ukraine not only hugged him, but also _picked him up right_ off of the ground.

"She's so pretty, brother!" Ukraine said happily, squeezing Yao tighter and tighter.

"He, sister. _He_," Ivan said.

"What?" Yao promptly fell to the floor when a stunned Ukraine let go of him. She then helped him back up, inspecting him carefully all the while. "Oh, I see it. Sorry. Forgive me!"

"It's… fine," Yao muttered. "Why does everyone keep mistaking me for a girl?"

"Well, girls have long hair," Ukraine said.

"You have short hair. Does that mean I'm allowed to think you're a man, aru?"

"W-What…?"

"No, no, wait! Please, don't cry! I didn't mean it in an offensive way! Besides, aru, it's obvious you're not a man! I'm just in a bad mood!"

"Good one," Ivan said.

"You're not helping!" Yao hissed.

"We should go see Papa now, Ukraine," Ivan interrupted quickly and smoothly, once again grabbing Yao's hand. He clenched it harder than he did last time so Yao wouldn't pull away again. "Thank you for informing us."

"You're welcome!" Ukraine sniveled, wiping her eyes. "My little Vanya… All grown up!"

"… What's a 'vanya', aru?" Yao whispered.

"I will tell you later," Ivan answered. "Come on. We must see Papa."

* * *

"You look scared." King Winter laced his fingers together and rested his head in the web. He sat behind his desk in the Moscow office, staring intensely at his son and future son-in-law. Yao fidgeted, uncomfortable. That appraising-type look the king was giving him didn't necessarily instill any good feelings in his body. Ivan looked just about ready to punch his father's lights out, but retrained himself by gripping onto the arms of his own chair. "What is there to be a afraid of, my children? I am only Papa."

"Da, Papa," Ivan responded automatically.

"I am sure my darling Ukraine has told you why you two are needed here with me," the king continued, ignoring his son's reply. He leaned back in his chair, unwinding his hands and crossing his arms behind his head. "The engagement celebration will be a grand one. It will display the future rulers of the Soviet Union! So wonderful. So absolutely _Soviet_ in nature! But I suppose 'wonderful' and 'Soviet' are synonyms, da?" King Winter laughed. "It is set for tomorrow night."

"_Tomorrow night_?" Yao repeated. "I-I don't think…"

"Oh, lovely Yao," the king said, putting on an expression of mock sadness. "Is this really all just a _farce_?"

It took all self-restraint to not pass out on the spot from fear alone.

Ivan and Yao exchanged a rather alarmed glance.

There was no way King Winter could have heard their conversation. Could he?

"You two _do_ make me laugh," the king chuckled. "Your expressions are so humorous. I am just joking around! Surely, you two are in love and _soul mates_."

Yao ground his teeth together.

"Right?" King Winter pressed.

"Da, Papa," Ivan said.

"Yao?" the king asked.

"Of… _course_," Yao growled. As an after thought, he added, "Papa."

"Hmm." King Winter closed his eyes. "It is cold. Ivan, go light a fire."

"… Where?" Ivan questioned.

"Just go."

"But—"

"Yao will be in good hands. I assure you."

"I will stay here, just in case. After all, betrothal involves _two_ people, does it not?"

"Exactly. Not three. So run along and light a fire for dear old Papa!"

"That is not what I had in mind."

"Ivan Braginski. Go light a fire."

"… Da, _Papa_." Ivan stood up from his chair, the wooden feet scraping against the stone floor with a horrible sound. As soon as he was out of earshot, he muttered, "I would rather light a fire on _you_," but Yao caught it.

"… Is there something you needed me for, aru?" Yao asked.

"'Aru'. How quaint. I did miss hearing your voice so very much," King Winter said. Yao guessed he meant it as a compliment and said nothing. The king stood up from his place behind the desk and circled it, stopping and standing right in front of the Chinese lawyer. Yao was, unfortunately, trapped. "Tell me, Yao, who is 'Tino'?"

Warning bells went off in Yao's head.

"J-Just a friend of mine," Yao muttered quietly.

King Winter's face was a little to close to his for comfort.

"You smell divine. Like spring flowers! But perhaps I do not know the smell of those, as flowers cannot grow when the ground is covered in snow," King Winter said happily.

"It's sunflowers, actually."

"Mm, I wonder why that is?"

"W-Well… Ivan said he liked sunflowers, so…"

"Oh. So this is for my syn?" Yao nodded, embarrassed. "I, too, like sunflowers."

"Really? That's, uh, nice, aru."

"I like them oh, so _very_ much."

"I think everybody should like something. Flowers are nice."

"Indeed, they are." King Winter pulled his face out of Yao's personal space and leaned back against the front of his desk. "It has come to my attention that things between you and my syn are not the best that they could be, correct?"

"Oh, no. Everything's great!"

"I seem to recall hearing the shouting of both of you. Or was I just imagining it?"

"… It was just a little premarital spat. They happen all the time to healthy couples. I would know, aru. I work in the divorce business—"

"Spare me the boring details. Yao, I will ask you a question. I want you to answer honestly. Go with your gut feeling! Do you love my syn?"

"… I…" Yao stalled for a moment, which was apparently good enough of an answer for King Winter.

"How tragic. Nobody loves him." The king sighed. "Not even his own fiancé."

"That's not true!" Yao argued.

"Fine, then. The love between him and Ukraine is only a sibling kind, though. And Ukraine is sometimes so scared of him! I do not know if I would call that 'love', Yao."

"That's not what I…" Yao stopped. "Oh, aru, just forget it."

"You are an interesting character." King Winter reached forward and grabbed his chin, his hand and fingers fitting into the same position it did last time. He yanked Yao's head up, pulling the other from the chair unless he wanted his neck to break. Yao stared at the king, eyes widened with horrid trepidation. "I cannot help but be… what word should I use… enchanted with you? Da, enchanted. That is quite the fitting word."

"Well, I'm kind of 'enchanted' with your son right now, so…" Yao said, struggling to get free from the elderly Soviet.

"Lies. You said that you do not love him!"

"You didn't give me time to think, aru! I don't _know_! It's just that—"

"Silence, Yao." King Winter's breath was puffing onto his face. It smelled like vodka. So did Ivan's, but at least his smelled like _good_ vodka. The king was so close to Yao in a way that could make anyone feel violated. "Be a good, obedient Chinese peasant and do what those of higher power command you to, da?"

"… Excuse me?"

"You heard me."

"King Winter—I mean, Papa? You're, um, kind of terrifying me right now…"

"Dominance is key to any relationship. One must have control over the other."

"Look, _Papa_, I think you're getting the wrong idea here, aru. This is really creepy. Could you let go of me?"

"Why should I?"

"_This_ is why, Papa," Ivan said, appearing out of nowhere. King Winter's head swiveled around, only to meet the fist rocketing toward his face. Down went the king with one fatal blow to his chin, delivered by his own son. King Winter fell to the floor with a loud 'thump', going unconscious and bleeding from the mouth. Ivan stared at the knocked out body of his father with a frown. "No candy? Where is my reward?"

"… Y-You didn't just do that…" Yao gasped.

"What else would you have wanted me to do?" Ivan asked. "Stand here and watch him harass the living daylights out of you? Never."

"He's going to kill you when he wakes up, aru."

"No. He is old and forgetful. I will tell him Raivis did it in a display of anger. He would not dare to hurt Raivis in return, lest Toris and Eduard come after him."

"I think he's going to remember his own son punching him."

"No. Ukraine tripped him once, by accident. He did not even realize what happened."

"Oh." Yao let out the breath he didn't even know he had been holding. "Thanks a lot, Ivan. I'm pretty sure he was about to kiss me or something, aru."

"Hmm." Ivan hummed sadly. "I will protect you until our time together is over, fairest maiden, as long or as short as it may be."

"Thanks."

"Do not mention it." Ivan patted his shoulder awkwardly. "Let us put the earlier conversation behind us. I sought you out in order to apologize, not start another quarrel."

"We can't just 'put it behind us'."

"Da, we can. I want this to be a happy time, spent together as close friends, nothing more. We will have to suffer through the party tomorrow night with forced smiles, but it is a small price to pay in order to get you back home." Ivan smiled. "Come, let us leave before Papa regains his sense."

"Alright, aru."

* * *

**A/N**: CREEPER KING WINTER. I WOULD PUNCH HIM TOO, VANYA. SAVE YOUR NINI! (To all you wondering, King Winter's head is secretly a piñata. There's REALLY candy in there. Ivan just doesn't have his pipe, so he can't break it open. Aww...) Oh, and guess who's in the next chapter...! We all know and love him... Yeah, it's Japan. Which means Greece will be with him. Which means Greece/Japan moments. AND PROBABLY SOME GERMANY/N. ITALY, TO ALL YOU FANS OF IT OUT THERE. This chapter was intense, huh? Yeah, it was! But don't worry. Happy endings are in store. I am a _firm_ believer in a happy ending for most fairytales! Yao's just being difficult at the moment. KISS YOUR VANYA, DAMN IT.

R&R


	17. Chapter XVI

**A/N**: Still not dead, you guys.

Also, a little warning for this chapter; if cross-dressing offends you, please leave. And subtle jokes about communism. Let's see if you catch them. (Oh, **lady-ribbon** keeps putting ideas into my head...) I have lots of good news, but I'll save it for later.

Wow, this chapter is over 5,000 words. WTF? Oh, and please notice how my vocabulary improves when Ivan shows up. Fail.

Oh, and _thanks_ **catastrophemastery**. Now I can never write King Winter without thinking of the Burger King. Thanks a lot.

* * *

It had been awkward, to say the least.

Even though they were in the midst of some sort of 'fight', or 'the breaking up phase', or whatever other words Yao could use to describe it, he and Ivan still had to pretend everything was fine and dandy. That meant sleeping together—in the friendly way—and sitting next to each other and holding hands in front of other people. Yao was uncomfortable most of the day. He could almost feel King Winter's eyes following his every move and analyzing it to death, which meant that Ivan kept trying to act more lovey-dovey towards him in order to stay convincing. Yao was pretty sure the prince hadn't heard the earlier parts of the conversation they had last night, and even if he did, he didn't do or say anything to indicate that he had.

The situation was already unpleasant enough by itself, but the people that kept stopping them in the hallways to say 'congratulations' or 'I can't wait for tonight' made it all the more unbearable. Finally, Ivan seemed to notice his companion's nervousness, and suggested that he go spend the day with Ukraine.

Ukraine was more than thrilled.

"Your hair is so pretty, Yao!" Ukraine gushed, running a brush through it. Yao sat on her bed, a little more than uncomfortable with a girl he barely knew combing his hair. "I wish I had hair like this. You know, I think it's nice Ivan let you come play dress up with me for today! We have to have some more 'girl time'! I'm the only girl in my family, other than my stepmother, but she's never around…" Ukraine hugged him suddenly, all but cutting off his air supply with her massive breasts. "But now I have you! We can have sleepovers and paint each other's nails and do each other's make up… Won't it be really fun?"

"I'm not a girl, aru," Yao muttered.

"No… But… I-I just thought that…" Ukraine's eyes brimmed with tears. "I don't have many friends who are girls… They're all boys… And even though you're a boy, you're the prettiest boy I know, so… I thought we could be really close! Like sisters! I'll be your big sister and tell you everything you need to know! And you'll be my little sister, who brushes _my_ hair and tells me your problems! Is that bad?"

"No, it's fine," Yao sighed, not wanting to make Ukraine cry again.

"Good!" Ukraine crushed him in her hug even further, but then let go. "I have to find you a dress to wear for tonight!"

"A dress?" Yao repeated.

"Of course! You can't go wearing… that… What is that?"

"It's a suit."

"Well, I don't like it. You look stuck-up. You need a pretty dress! How about something red?" Ukraine eyed him up and down for a second, before walking over to her closet and pulling the doors open. She started searching through the dresses hung on the hangers for something that looked like it would fit the other. "You look like a red to me."

"No offense, aru, but you don't seem like the type to even enjoy wearing dresses."

"I don't like them." Ukraine sighed. "But Papa makes me wear them."

"Why?"

"Why don't I like them or why does Papa make me wear them?"

"… Both, I guess."

"Well… this is a secret, so don't tell anyone, okay? I'm only telling you because you're my little sister!"

"My lips are sealed, aru."

"I've always wanted to work on a farm."

"… A farm?"

"Don't laugh! I've always wanted to work on a farm, and live in a little house, and eat the food I grow! A big, open field and wide tracts of land that I could lie down in if I ever wanted to take a nap! It would be so nice. But Papa says princesses don't work on farms and don't wear overalls and don't use pitchforks and have long hair and always try to look really pretty for all the boys. But that's not me. I like my short hair and overalls are my favorite clothes and pitchforks are useful… And some of the boys I know who are trying to court me are horrible people… Being pretty isn't my top priority." Ukraine looked over at him with a smile. "I know it's weird, but I think farming is my calling. Papa won't let me be a farmer, so I'll just wait. Ivan will let me!"

"He better."

"Ivan is good to me. But sometimes I think he thinks it's funny when I cry…" Ukraine sighed and turned back to her dresses. "It's okay, though. He has you now! I think you're a really good person who loves my brother."

"Yeah…" Yao coughed. "Definitely."

"And I know Papa likes you a lot. Papa rarely likes anybody who Ivan likes. It's sad. I don't understand why those two just can't get along. It would make life a whole lot easier. Well…" Ukraine paused. "I guess they're too much alike in some ways."

"What do you mean, aru?"

"What's the phrase all you guys use…? Oh, yeah. Like father like son! They both think violence is an answer. And Ivan never says what he's feeling, like Papa. See, that's why you're good for him! He opens up for you, right?"

"All the time."

"He doesn't for me. Or for anybody else, really. I think it's just you, then. It makes me sad. I'm supposed to be his big sister but… he's always the one protecting _me_. I don't like it. At least you distract him. He always had his nose in my business or made sure I was okay or forced me to spend time with him because he was afraid my friends would hurt me. I haven't seen much of him at all since you've been here! He must _really_ like you to forget about his own big sister! And I can't believe he's getting _married_. It seems like just yesterday I gave my little Vanya that scarf! Oh, oh! How did he propose? Won't you tell me? I bet it was something romantic! I think Ivan has a sweet side. He must, or else you probably wouldn't like him, hmm? Well, I digress. Tell me, Yao!"

"Um…" Crap. "He asked me if I wanted to marry him… And I said yes… So… Here we are."

"… Is that it?"

"Basically."

"Oh."

Ukraine's disappointed voice made Yao feel even guiltier about the fact that he was lying to her about almost everything.

"Well," the princess began, and resumed rummaging through her closet. "Where's Feliks when you need him?"

"Um, I've been here since you, like, said the word 'dress'," somebody said from the doorway. He—she?—walked over and stood right in front of Yao. Ukraine only waved to him as a greeting. "So, hi!"

"… Um, aru, hello?" Yao said back, confused. "Are you talking to me?"

"Yeah, I am!" the other said. "Wow, so you're, like, Ivan's fiancé?"

"Yes," Yao replied.

"Cool! I'll be at your party tonight! It'll be totally great with me there. 'Cause, like, I know how to party. So, yeah. My name is Feliks. That's spelled F-E-L-I-K-S. I'm the fairest maiden of this place and I'm married to Toris. What's your name?"

"Wang Yao. It's nice to meet you."

"Nice to meet you, too! Jeez, who knew Ivan could score a pretty girl?"

"I'm not a girl, aru!"

"Really? Me either!"

"… Are you serious?"

"I'm legit serious. I just like to look hot. Toris appreciates it. He's actually really feisty! Did you know that?" Feliks turned his attention to Ukraine. "And you! I'm offended! I'm, like, your total girl best friend."

"But you're not my _sister_," Ukraine said back. "Yao is! But you can be my best friend. Come here! I have to pick out a dress for Yao. Something red…"

"Ooh, so we're dressing him up? Can I do his hair?"

"Okay, but you have to help me find him something to wear first!"

"Do you want me to go check my closet? No offense, but I don't think he'd fit into anything of yours. You have, like, boobs. He obviously doesn't."

"Oh… That's a good point…"

"Duh. So, we're all heading to my room? I have lots of dresses—and shirts and skirts, if that turns out to be a better choice—and hair stuff and make up. If Toris is busy in there, I'll tell him to get lost. Like, seriously. Don't worry, Yao! Ukraine and I have you covered. Ivan's going to be, like, _drooling_ over you once we're finished."

"Oh… What joy…" Yao sighed. "I don't see why I can't just go like this, aru."

"Because," Feliks whined. "You look like you're ready to go, I don't know, do something important instead of party. Soviet parties are, like, _so_ much fun! The vodka really loosens them up some once they've had enough to last a lifetime. They down that stuff like water, but everyone has a limit."

"I'm not drinking any!" Yao said quickly. Feliks laughed. "I'm serious! And I'm _not_ wearing a dress."

"B-But…" Ukraine stammered, tears starting to roll down her cheeks. Yao wondered maybe if the crying was on purpose instead of a personality trait. It didn't necessarily give the lawyer the best feeling in the entire world when he made Ivan's sister cry. "I thought… We can wear dresses together… All three of us! It'll be fun! Won't it, Feliks?"

"Yeah!" the Pole tried to assure him. "Totally awesome, Yao."

"Dresses are for _women_," Yao tried to tell them. "Something that I am _not_."

"You're pretty enough to be one," Ukraine attempted to persuade him with even more sobs. It was, unfortunately, actually kind of working. "P-Please, Yao? I've never had anybody to do this kind of stuff with…! We're sisters! Big sisters are supposed to make their little sisters happy. Wouldn't wearing a dress and having your hair done and having your nails painted and wearing make up make you feel prettier and happier? And… and… Ivan would love it!"

Ukraine and Feliks secretly high fived when he ground out a 'fine'.

* * *

"… I… don't believe I've had the pleasure of meeting Ivan's fiancé yet."

"Yeah, well, you can meet him later, Liet. You need to leave!"

"Feliks—"

Toris only sighed and shook his head when the door to his room was slammed in his face. His name wasn't Liet, damn it. He wondered what Feliks was up to, but he knew that if he knocked on the door, he would just be ignored or yelled at again. Oh, the important things one learned after marriage.

Wait.

He'd forgotten his book.

Toris prepared himself for another headache.

"Feliks, can I just—"

"No! I told you to go away! Now, shoo! Just because we're, like, married doesn't mean you have to spend every waking moment with me!"

"No, look, I just need—"

"_Bye_, Liet!"

Fine, then.

Toris sighed again and walked away, deprived of both his book and sense of dignity.

Feliks grinned at the sound of retreating footsteps.

"That wasn't nice," Ukraine admonished him. "Maybe he could have helped?"

"No, Liet's, like, an idiot when it comes to this stuff," Feliks told her matter-of-factly. "_Trust_ me. I bet you he doesn't even know how to braid hair! See, he would just get in the way."

"Braid?" Yao repeated.

"Oh, no! I just meant in general. Not on you. That would be, like, _eww_. Your hair in a braid would be like me in whatever you're wearing—completely disastrous."

"Alright…" Yao said. "Then what are you going to do?"

"I like Ukraine's idea. Pink is, like, the _best_ color, but red would probably be a good color on you." Feliks twirled the lawyer's hair around his finger, making said lawyer's personal space feel extremely invaded. "Yeah. Red would be, like, the best bet. And your hair should be up, not down. Or maybe just, like, not in a ponytail at all. Yeah, that's good! You should just wear it down without the ponytail. It would look _so_ totally cute on you. Hmm… make up… You're pretty pale, so I don't want to do anything _too_ drastic. That's happened before. I always _hate_ it when people with pale skin smear their face with bronzer and go to parties looking, like, brown. It's disgusting. Never be one of those people!"

"I don't wear make up in the first place, aru. I honestly didn't plan on _ever_ wearing it, either."

"Too bad! You need to look all spiffy for tonight! Like, who knows who's going to be there? You need to dress to impress. Nobody's going to feel good about having you as a future ruler of the Soviet Union if you, like, look like you totally just woke up. It's just _wrong_. So, anyway… Oh, yeah! Do you have your ears pierced?"

"No." Yao hated the look on the other's face. "… Why?"

"Okay, that's on today's agenda, too. It's going to take a long time to dress you up and stuff. And do your nails. They should be red to match your dress." Feliks glanced at the clock on the wall. "We only have, like, three and a half hours. Drat! We're going to have to hurry up! Ukraine, go in my closet and find Yao a dress, m'kay?"

"On it!" Ukraine replied, skipping away to Feliks's massive closet.

"You, come with me," Feliks said, grabbing Yao's hand and pulling him over to a vanity. He pushed the other down on the stool. "I've got _tons_ of stuff. You'll look ready for your _wedding_, even, once I'm finished! You'll let me and Ukraine do, like, this again when you get married, right?"

"… Sure," Yao answered, despite the fact he was talking about the wedding that would never happen.

"Awesome!" Feliks cheered. "Can I be a bridesmaid? Ukraine should be your maid of honor since she's, like, your sister, but I want to be a bridesmaid."

"Knock yourself out."

"I can't wait! Jeez, now I wish this party would be over so that way you could just have the wedding already… But, oh well! Did Ivan show you the ballroom? It's magnificent. I wonder if Liet will ask me to dance… Hmm… Well, like, that doesn't matter right now. It's all about you, duh! All the guys are going to be all over you. Ivan's going to have to punch them like he did to his father."

"You heard about that, aru?"

"Of course I did! Ivan told his father Raivis did it, and then old King Winter got mad at Raivis, and then Liet and Eduard had to talk some sense into him. If it, like, involves Liet in any way, I know about it. We're _really_ close, so he tells me everything. Because that's what people who are really close and in love do! They tell each other secrets and how they're feeling and what happened and stuff… You know what I mean, right?"

"I guess…"

"Well, I'm just glad Ivan stood up to old man Winter. I don't know _why_ he punched the guy, though. But if he, like, puts Liet in another bad situation, I'm turning Moscow into Warsaw."

"Oh."

"Yeah. Well, let's get you ready!"

* * *

"So… How do you feel?"

"Embarrassed."

"… I meant honestly. How do you feel?"

"As if I've been stripped off my sense of pride as a man, aru."

"Oh, come on! It's not _that_ bad. You look, like, really pretty."

"You pierced my ears without giving me a warning. It hurts. Do you even know how to properly pierce ears?"

"Beauty has a price, Yao! Suck it up!"

"_Why_ are you making me do this, again?"

"Because!" Feliks spun Yao around in a graceful, making the fancy bottom of the red dress swish this way and that. Yao stopped Feliks with a hand on the other's shoulder, expression displaying his indignation with the current circumstances. "Don't give me that look! You look, like, _so_ nice. Come on. When you got it, flaunt it!"

"I'm sure Ivan will love it," Ukraine added, trying to be helpful.

"That's not really what I was going for, aru," Yao said.

"Oh, Yao!" Ukraine squished him in another hug. "You and my little Vanya are going to be so wonderful together!"

"Yep," Yao said, shoving the princess off of him gently. Did Ivan's sister enjoy making him feel pangs of remorse? "Well… Do I have to stay like this?"

"Why wouldn't you?" Feliks asked. "Now _we_ have to get ready. You have to leave, okay?"

"What? I have to leave, aru?"

"If you don't mind. I value my privacy."

"So do I, but I didn't complain when you ripped off my jacket."

"Because you knew it was a lost cause. Anyway, you, like, have to go. Ukraine is going to her room to get changed, too."

Ukraine nodded.

"I have to walk around looking like _this_?" Yao asked, frowning.

"There's nothing wrong with it!" Feliks assured him. "I'm wearing a dress, too, if that makes you feel any better."

"But you _like_ wearing dresses, aru. I'm not so fond of cross-dressing."

"You'll get used to it." Feliks opened the door and pushed both Yao and Ukraine out of his room. Yao spluttered, red faced and rather irate, while Ukraine just waved with a smile. "It's late. The party starts, like, soon. So, yeah. Bye, you two!" With that, the door shut, leaving Yao and Ukraine alone in the hallway together.

"I better go get ready, too," Ukraine said, apologetic. "Sorry, Yao. You should go see if Ivan needs help getting dressed!"

"What? No, I—" Yao began.

"Don't kiss, or else you'll mess up your make up too early!" Ukraine said, cutting him off. She leaned in and gave him a kiss on the cheek before bounding away, singing, "Bye, little sister! I'll see you later!"

Yao sighed. A couple of servants walking by gave him odd stares as he trudged off to his and Ivan's shared room, in search of shelter from the world. Dressing like the opposite gender wasn't a hobby of his, unlike Feliks, but he didn't want to make Ukraine cry again. _Or_ have Feliks get mad at him, because having Beijing turn into Warsaw didn't sound so appealing. Either way, looking like a gender-bender was humiliating. Finally, he reached the room, and hurried in, locking the door behind him. Ivan, who was standing in front of the mirror, turned to look him, but had to do a double take. The prince gave him a shocked look, and Yao covered his face with his hands.

"I…" Ivan started, but paused, unaware of how to phrase what he was thinking without somehow offending the other. "You…"

"Don't. Say. Anything," Yao growled.

"I am simply wondering… Why?" the prince asked.

"Your sister and Feliks got a hold of me," Yao explained.

"Oh." Ivan nodded. "Feliks is one interesting man, is he not? They are not with you now?"

"They're getting ready, aru."

"Ah. Well… You… How should I put this…?"

"You don't have to say anything."

"No… I would like to. Do not take this the wrong way, but I think that you look absolutely gorgeous. Utterly ravishing, if I may say so myself." Ivan smiled. "And I do."

"… Don't tell me this turns you on, or something."

"It does, and very much so at that. But we will leave that conversation for another day, I suppose. Ah, red. I have heard that it is the color of happiness in China? I do believe you told me that, actually."

"Yeah, it is."

"You wear it well. Why does the higher power punish me so? Being with you, one so alluring, and keeping my hands to myself requires the use of all self-discipline."

"You flatter me, aru."

"I speak nothing but the truth. I am brutally honest. Surely, even you have recognized that by now." Ivan waited for some type of response, but none came. "What is wrong, Yao?"

"I'm dressed like a woman."

"I do not see the problem."

"_You_ wouldn't."

"… My apologies for thinking that you look attractive when in such attire. Though lust and love are not the same, I feel as if they compliment each other quite well. They are both accurate descriptions of how I feel toward you. A dress only further enhances your astonishing femininity. In a good way, of course."

"Do you like me because I apparently look like a female, aru?"

"No. Appearance does not matter when it comes to love, but your level of pulchritude is a bonus."

"… Thanks…?"

"You are welcome. In all honesty, you are stunning."

Yao said nothing. He only crossed his arms and leaned against the door.

Ivan's smile fell.

"You are aware that the party starts in half of an hour?" the Soviet questioned. Yao nodded. "Good. Well, let me educate you for a tad bit of time. This is not only a Soviet party. Guests from other kingdoms will be attending. Do your best to act amicable and sweet to those foreigners. Though America, the kingdom of China and North Korea, and the kingdom of Cuba are our greatest allies, and they are powerful, it does help to have others who wish to befriend your kingdom. If they like you, then… They may become fonder of _us_. You must do your best to be a polite and gracious host, but if someone is annoying you, tell them I am calling for you and leave. Not everyone is interesting enough to pay attention to. Also… Hmm…"

"What?"

"Hush! I am thinking! Alas, nothing more is coming to me right now. All I can say, in short, is that you should try your best to be friendly and not offend anyone."

"I'll make an effort. Don't worry, aru."

"I have nothing to worry about. I am positive that you will impress those invited. It is, unquestionably, very easy to like you. Too easy, in fact. Oh, that reminds me. I have a favor to ask of you."

"What do you need?"

"Perhaps it would be alright if we danced together? One song, even. A few of my good friend Tchaikovsky's pieces are being played tonight. It would be a dream come true of mine if you were to dance with me during a song of his."

"You want to dance? With _me_?"

"Is that such a bad thing? I doubt you have two left feet, as you seem to be exceedingly graceful. Or is it that you do not want to dance with me? If that is the case, I do understand."

"No, that's not it… I just…"

"There is nothing else you can do to wound my feelings more than they have been. A rejection from you is something I have grown accustomed to. If 'no' is what you are trying to express, then please say it out loud."

"Ivan."

"Hmm?"

"Would you just give me a second to _think_, aru?"

"Why must everything be thought over? As Alfred would say in his stupid American drawl, 'go with the flow'. It is really not such a horrid concept at all, I admit. You, especially, could learn something from it."

"Fine."

"'Fine' what, exactly?"

"Fine, I'll dance with you."

"You make it sound as if I am forcing you. If it would only be a hassle, then it is all right. Do as you wish."

"Well, what if I _want_ to dance with you?"

"Do you? That is what I have been asking you for this past minute."

"Yes, I want to. Jesus Christ, aru."

"Wonderful!" Ivan grabbed Yao's hand, surprising the Chinese man, and twirled him about the room in a distinctly ballroom dance-like fashion. After, he enveloped the other in a tight embrace and all but squeezed Yao until he couldn't breathe. "Thank you so very much." Ivan's voice was a husky whisper in Yao's ear that made him involuntarily shiver. The prince only hugged him closer, if possible. "I do not think you can fathom how much this means to me, Yao."

"What do you mean?" Yao asked.

"How should I put this?" Ivan mused, resting his chin on the carefully styled head of black hair. "It will be the one dance I shall ever hope to have with you. During the dance… I can hold you close, and not have to let go. Well, until the end of the song, that is. But, for whatever amount of time, I can pretend that we are openly in love and possibly be genuinely engaged. That it is our real party, not some show we have to put on for others. That my father has never existed. That someone, meaning you, honest-to-goodness cares enough just because I am who I am. That there is something other than a lonely throne beckoning for me, with one next to it that will forever remain empty. That, most importantly, you love me. That this feeling is mutual. Da, I realize it is nothing but a far-fetched fantasy of mine… None of those things are probable… But I want to make believe.

"For once, I want my life to seem as if it is a truly enchanted fairytale."

Yao hesitated.

"Ivan…"

The prince smiled.

"Come, or else we will be late for our party."

* * *

"Oh my," were the first words out of King Winter's mouth. Yao adjusted the dress he was being forced to wear, trying to snap the king out of his trance. Ivan, suspicious of the look in his father's eyes, pulled his fiancé close and wrapped an arm around Yao's waist. That, finally, seemed to wake the king up. "You look, without a doubt, dazzling in that little ensemble you're sporting. What a lucky man you are, my syn. Jealousy is coursing through my veins as we speak." The king held out his hand—the one that wasn't holding vodka. "May I request some time with Yao, syn?"

"No," Ivan replied, stone-faced.

King Winter's smile tightened.

"You do not mean that," he said. "Come, give me your fiancé."

"No," Ivan repeated. "Where is my stepmother? Pester her."

"She is… busy. You know how that woman is."

"I do not know her at all, because she is never around. Maybe she finds something revolting about this castle? I wonder."

"I can assure that it is _you_ as a person, syn, that keeps her from home. Maybe things would be better if you were not alive? I wonder."

"Hey! Don't talk to Ivan like that, aru," Yao interrupted.

"Oh?" King Winter's eyes strayed back to him. "He needs to be put in his place. Talking back is something you _never_ do."

"Still. Don't talk to him like he's not important," Yao told the king, who narrowed his eyes in response. "Ivan is _the_ most important thing to me. Kind of why we're at this party, right, aru? We should just have fun."

"… Hmm… I second that. Da, fun is what should matter," King Winter agreed. "Run along, you two."

"_Thank_ you."

"I will see you later. And that is a promise."

As King Winter went back to downing the alcohol, Yao tugged Ivan away.

"You… did not have to do that," the prince said while being lead away.

"Yeah, I did. Your dad… pisses me off, aru. Besides, if you're allowed to punch him for getting too close to me, I can verbally smack him if he insults you. It's only fair," Yao replied.

"Well. I thank you for that display, then," Ivan said, smiling.

"It's not a problem, aru. Anytime."

"Da, you are much too good for me." Ivan chuckled and disentangled himself from Yao with one fluid movement. "I am going to go greet the guests, as you should. Just walk up to anyone and say hello. Introduce yourself as Wang Yao, the fiancé of Prince Ivan The Brave, Ivan Braginski. That is all you need to do. I will see you in a bit, Yao."

"Okay."

With a kiss to Yao's cheek, the prince turned and walked away, stopping in front of people Yao didn't recognize and chatting them up. Yao scanned the crowd for someone he knew, maybe Tino, and managed to spot Berwald towering about most of the crowd. Where there was Berwald, there was Tino. Just as Yao was about to go engage in a conversation with the two, and the other three accompanying them, there was a light tap on his shoulder.

"What—?"

Yao looked over his shoulder, but the rest of his sentence got caught in his throat.

Kiku.

* * *

**A/N**: So maybe I lied the end of the last chapter. No Greece/Japan now. MY DEEPEST APOLOGIES. Aaaaanyway, next chapter features: _Greece/Japan_, Sweden/Finland, the long awaited Denmark/Norway, and bits of Germany/N. Italy. You're thinking, "Wow, you suck. Where's my Korea/Hong Kong?" My answer is, "Be patient and wait." Because I honestly have no fucking clue. Oh, oops. ANYWAY, I'm such a loser. I can't believe I never explained this. 'Syn' is the romanization of the Russian word for 'son'. Fuck. Sorry, guys. You were all reading that going, "What the fuck...? Is she _blind_?"

Accomplishments:

1) I found out Lady GaGa is dating someone named Matthew Williams. What the hell are you thinking, Canada?

2) I have successfully creeped on yet another Hetalia fan. We met at Game Stop. Her username on here is **Anaca**. Any of you read any of her fics, by any chance?

3) Once this story is finished, **lady-ribbon** (A wonderful RoChu writer on here. Have you heard of her? No? What the hell is wrong with you? Go read her fics! Go, go!) and I will be waging a one-shot war. Friendly war, of course :D I'm planning on taking about a two week to a month break from another RoChu chapter fic once this is over, so I asked her if she just wanted to have a one-shot war with me to keep the RoChu juices flower (pun intended). She'll give me a prompt, I'll write a one-shot. I give her a prompt, she writes a one-shot. You see how it goes? It's totally friendly, you guys. Don't hate. I hate haters. I feel the need to share a hater story, because it was just too funny. (I already told **Jenny Max** this story, so...) So, you guys remember 'don't be a fool, wrap your tool'? (I love Tino :D) Somebody, who will remain anonymous, MESSAGED me and was like, "Condoms are against the Church." Um, yeah, they are. I was like, "Dude, I know. So are homosexual relationships. What the fuck are you doing reading a Russia/China fic?" So, yeah. It was funny.

4) Secretly started a fic I won't upload until I'm all finished with it. It's Greece/Japan. I'm keeping you on the edge of your seat, huh?

5) Decided to write a SuFin fic eventually (meaning maybe never since I'm a slacker orz). Everyone keeps saying they love my Tino... Err, thanks, you guys.

See you next time! :D


	18. Chapter XVII

**A/N**: Epic chapter is epic. Well, at the end. That was not me giving you permission to skip ahead, okay? If you do, you will miss all the Greece/Japan, Denmark/Norway, Sweden/Finland, and Germany/N. Italy implications. And that's something you don't want to miss, right? But really, at the end, you're all going to go, "FINAL-FUCKING-LY." If that wasn't an obvious hint, I don't know what is... So, you'll say that, and then you'll be like, "D8" at the _very_ end. This chapter is _way_ over 5,000 words, by the by.

Oh, I have a _huge_ crush on Germany. Daaaaamn, that German is sexy. I used to have a crush on Austria, but I then realized he's a pansy! Who do you think is sexy in APH? It's a poll on my profile~

Do any of you have a twitter? If you do, do you want to follow me? I'd tweet you guys :D I'm **marlenacecilia** on there, too. Just... look me up on twitter and request to follow!

You will notice in this chapter Tchaikovsky gets a mention. That is because I love him.

Any others of you psyched for the dub of Hetalia? I am! It's probably going to be horrible, but I can't wait. Mother dearest promised she'd watch it with me... Let's hope FUNimation doesn't suck with it and ruin it forever. That would suck D: And I hope they pick someone sexy to be Germany. Daaaaaamn, Germany's voice is sexy. He's just all around sexy.

I made a scene at graduation. Just... Fuck.

Anyway, enjoy.

* * *

"Hi," Kiku said, hesitantly smiling and waving.

Yao frowned.

"Well," the Greek prince wrapped around Kiku said, nodding. "I'll… leave you two to it, then." He gave Kiku a kiss on the cheek, making the other blush and push him away, before walking off in some random direction. Yao raised an eyebrow at their behavior. The Japanese brother didn't explain anything. He only stood there, in front of his elder, Chinese one, nervously shifting his feet and looking around the room, and anywhere but the person with him. A servant passing by holding a tray noticed the tension and decided to stop by.

"Something to drink?" she offered.

"Oh," Kiku said, surprised, and took a glass off of the tray. "Thank you."

"You are welcome," the servant replied, and then went about her merry way.

"Um, I wouldn't…" Yao started, biting his lip.

"What?" Kiku asked, confused.

"No, that's—"

Kiku's eyes all but bugged out of his sockets after he took a sip, and he rather ungentlemanly spit the offending liquid back into the glass. Heracles looked over when he heard the Japanese man coughing and gagging, but his lover only waved a hand at him as an 'I'm fine' gesture in response.

Yao sighed.

"… Vodka," the lawyer finished. "Not water."

"Thanks for the warning," the other said with an uncharacteristic, miniscule scowl.

"Well, aru, you like sake, so I figured…" Yao trailed off, shrugging.

"You like rice and Mulan, and apparently I like sake. We're even," Kiku said. "You look… nice."

"I look like a woman."

"… A pretty woman?"

"Thanks for trying."

"You make a convincing one, if that helps."

"… Gee, that makes me feel a whole lot better."

"No, look, I didn't mean to imply you're a girl."

"Of course not, aru. Why are you even here?"

"… Well… I found that pond before you guys did, so… Heracles and I just hopped in."

"And you didn't _tell_ us?"

"I didn't think you'd answer your phone if you saw who was calling."

"Yeah, well… You could have called Yong Soo."

"I didn't really think it would matter whether or not I was here…"

They both stood there awkwardly for a moment, until Kiku attempted to start a conversation and asked, "So, what's new?"

"Other than a party celebrating my false engagement? Nothing much, really," Yao answered.

"False engagement?" Kiku repeated. Yao nodded. "You mean… this isn't real?"

"What do you mean 'this isn't real', aru?" Kiku rolled his shoulders loosely. Yao stared at him, uncomprehending, and then shook his head. "Don't tell me you thought this whole thing was legitimate? God, no. How could you even…? Why did you think that?"

"I didn't. Forget about it."

"What? I can't just brush it off, aru! I want to know!"

"Well…" Kiku avoided his gaze. "At the end of the story, you guys got married, so I just guessed…"

"… What?"

"… You don't remember?"

"I wouldn't have said 'what' if I remembered, aru."

"You two got married at the end of the fairytale you told Yong Soo. And since marriage between two of the same gender is legal here, I thought that you'd be staying in this world. As in for good. And, if we're going by the order of events as they happened in the story, I can't get married until you do. Then Yong Soo and Hong Kong get married. This is extremely embarrassing to admit, but I'm pretty sure Heracles and I _are_ going to wed at some point. I-It's not going to happen anytime soon, b-but… Well, the point is that you have to marry Ivan first!"

"No way!"

"But, Yao—"

"Life isn't some fairytale, Kiku. I think I know that better than anyone."

"I think you should realize that yours is turning out to be one."

"It's not, aru. If it was, I'd actually have a reason to be happy and not mope around."

Kiku gestured to Ivan across the room.

"He doesn't count," Yao muttered.

"_How_?" his younger brother pressed.

"He just doesn't!" Yao almost shouted.

"I honestly wish you would stop lying to yourself."

"Wishes don't always come true."

"And maybe you could stop being so pessimistic?"

"I am _not_ pessimistic, aru!"

"Let me reiterate—I honestly wish you would stop lying to yourself."

"If all you wanted to do was insult me, then you can just leave. Consider it a mission accomplished."

"I didn't—"

"_Why_ are you even talking to me?"

"… Well… We're brothers."

Yao snorted.

"Hardly," he said.

"I just want to help," Kiku said, desperate.

"Oh, trust me, aru, you've 'helped' enough," the older of the two groused.

"We can't try to be brothers again…?"

"Why bother?"

"See, this is what I meant about you being a skeptic."

"You say that like I have no reason to be skeptical of you."

"I understand that you do… Truly, I get where you're coming from—"

"_No_, I don't think you do. How, aru, can you relate? What has happened to you that makes you think you're on the same wavelength as me? You've had a cushy lifestyle the entire time you've been alive, with all your dreams being fulfilled and everyone loving the quiet, mysterious, proper you. My life was, in most ways, the opposite, aru. The only person who could ever attempt to even try to empathize with my situation would be Ivan."

Great. This was the perfect opening Kiku had been looking for.

"And saying that—out loud, even—doesn't sound any alarms in your head? None at all?" He urged the other to maybe just think a little bit.

"… Should it?"

Kiku shrugged.

"I can't tell you what to think and what not to," he said.

"I thought you were trying to help me," Yao said.

"I thought I 'helped' enough?" Kiku joked.

"I just want to know what you're getting at, aru."

"Nothing. Something. Everything."

"Yes, being vague is _really_ cool these days."

Kiku decided to ignore that. "What do _you_ think I meant?"

"Oh, so we're playing 'therapist' now?"

"I always thought 'lawyer' was your favorite game. You play it all the time."

"I don't even like being a lawyer, aru."

"No? What would you like to do, then?"

"… I don't know."

"You always told me you wanted to be an artist."

"T-That was a long time ago! Things have changed."

"You could quit being a lawyer and go to art school. Yong Soo's staying here, so that means he's not going back to college. What would you have to lose?"

"My dignity?"

"… Um… I don't mean to be rude, but you're wearing a dress."

"Whatever."

"Either way, how does quitting make you lose your dignity?"

"I've been a workaholic ever since I started working there, aru. If I suddenly quit to go to _art school_—"

"Everyone would probably be happy for you."

"I can't just _quit_. That would achieve nothing."

"So stay here. You wouldn't have to quit."

"There's no way I'm staying here."

"I guess you're right…"

"… Excuse me, aru?"

"Well, there's no way you'd fit in."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"Take it any way you like."

"I think I fit in!"

"Really?"

"Really. And, if anything, I have _way_ more of reason to stay here than you do."

"There's no way you do."

"Um, yes way."

"How do you suppose that?"

"Well, aru, let's see." Yao held out his hand and began ticking off things on his fingers. "First, I was chased through the woods by the crazy witch Natalia, who I'm surprised hasn't tried to kill me yet. Second, I was confronted by King Winter, Ivan's crazy whacko of a father. Third, I don't know _what_ happened, aru, but I found myself in a compromising situation with Ivan and actually kind of enjoyed it. Yong Soo interrupted by calling me. You can thank him for his horrible timing. I, being an idiot, answered my phone. Ivan and I fought for a little bit, aru. The next day, we fought again, because I'm an emotional train wreck who's unable to voice his own feelings. Then, I was preyed on by King Winter again. Ivan punched him. Today, Ivan's sister, Ukraine, aru, and some fairest maiden named Feliks shoved me into women's clothing and forced me to come here looking like the opposite gender. And now I'm at my party, being harassed by you. If I left, something like that movie 'War of the Worlds' would happen.

"Despite all that, aru, I kind of like it here."

"Why do you like it?"

"… This is just between you and me, right?"

"Don't worry, this is completely confidential."

"Ivan may or may not be a big factor…"

"And you're _not_ staying because…?"

"I…" Yao opened his mouth, but no excuse came out.

Kiku smiled. His brother had played right into his hands.

"You should think about that," the Japanese brother encouraged. "There are all these reasons for you to stay, and zero to go back."

"Yeah, well…" Yao scowled and crossed his arms. "It doesn't even matter anymore, aru. Ivan kind of told me to go back."

"Why?"

"How should I know?"

"… If I were to tell you to go home, I'd probably give an explanation as to why you needed to leave. What did he say?"

"Stuff."

"And that's it?"

"… In short, he basically said he gave up."

"Oh." Kiku frowned. "And that wasn't enough of a warning that maybe you should do something?"

"What do you propose I do, then, aru?"

"Truthfully, that's something you need to decide on your own."

"I don't know what I'm supposed to do!"

"… I'm about to preach something I don't believe in so… just be quiet for a moment. Yao, don't think—just do. Stop scrutinizing every detail and possible outcome for whatever action or thing you say. It'd probably be good if you said what you _actually_ _mean_, for once. Sure, as a lawyer, you were taught to analyze the words in your head before they came out of your mouth, but this isn't the courtroom. You should just say whatever you feel at the moment. I bet you Ivan would appreciate it."

"But… what if it's 'spur of the moment'?"

"Even fleeting thoughts have some substance behind them."

"… But, aru… I can't say something I don't mean."

"You wouldn't have thought it if you didn't mean it."

"What if I tell him something ridiculous? Like that I 'love' him? I almost did."

"Do you?"

"… I don't know."

"Don't think about it. I'll ask again; do you love him?"

"I-I don't know!"

"Just answer the question."

"I… Well, aru… In a way…"

"In a way?"

"I've told you _twice_! I. Don't. Know."

"You're _thinking_ about it! That's your problem. That's always been your problem! You toss and turn words over and have to look for the ulterior motive underneath them. You look deeper than you should. Just take it at face value!"

"You never say what _you_ mean. And you always say 'no' or 'I'll think about it'."

"So maybe you were an influential person in my life."

"So this all comes back to me, aru?"

"I'm going to blurt out what I'm thinking right now—You're being difficult and rather absurd about this whole thing. Your turn."

"You're being a pain in my neck. What, exactly, are you hoping to accomplish with this?"

"… Do I have to have a concealed intention?"

"I was only asking. Jeez."

"Listen, Yao. I know you're not necessarily over me or whatever I did to you, but I still care about you. If there's one thing I want you to be, it's happy. I've kind of lost my chances at being the person who could make you smile, and for that, I'm always going to feel regret whenever I see you. I just think that… if Ivan can make you happy and smile… then you should take it and run with it. You've been holding yourself back from the beginning of time in order to protect yourself or save others, and I think you've gotten so used to it that you've been doing it unconsciously. You need to make your wants and needs your number one priority. Last but not least, I'm not an emotional person, so don't expect another outpouring of my heartfelt secrets."

"Wow, Kiku… I never knew you felt like that, aru…"

"It's fine. But that's what I've been wanting to say for a while. Anyway, I suppose it's time I took my leave. Your friend over there has been trying to get your attention for the past five minutes." Kiku pointed past Yao's shoulder, to where Tino was jumping up and down in the throng of people, and waving like a lunatic. Yao really wished he didn't know and or wasn't friends with Tino at that moment. "Before I go, here's some food for thought. I told you how the ending of that fairytale was marriage between you and Ivan, right? I also specifically remember Yong Soo asking if you _swore_ you were okay with the ending. Guess what you said? 'I swear'."

"Kiku!"

"Bye, Yao."

The Japanese brother restrained himself from laughing as he made his way back over to Heracles, leaving Yao alone in the middle of a big crowd, stunned.

"Something funny happened?" the Greek prince asked.

"No," Kiku answered, allowing himself a minute to grin, "not really."

A thoughtful 'hmm' was the only reply.

* * *

"So," Tino began, sucking in a big breath. Yao knew that signaled he was about to verbally spew a novel. Even Berwald turned and ignored him, in favor of talking to his friend, someone Yao had never seen before. "I saw you talking to Kiku and stuff. I thought you and Kiku weren't on good terms? Does that mean you two are talking again? I hope you are. Why are you dressed like that? Is there something you never told me? Are you secretly a woman? I wouldn't be surprised. Just remember; no glove, no love—"

"_Tino_!" Yao hissed. "I'm not a woman! And what happened to not being a fool?"

"Well, 'no glove, no love' is shorter, so I figured you'd remember that more easily," Tino explained nonchalantly. "Anyway, you didn't answer any of my questions, other than the ones pertaining to your possible gender-switch. What's up with your brother? By the by, he's getting all buddy-buddy with that one tan guy."

"I know he's… 'buddy-buddy'… with him. That's Heracles. He's been raping Kiku since they met," Yao said.

"What?" Tino gasped. He tugged on Berwald's sleeve, and the tall Swede looked at him with an eyebrow raised. "That guy, the tan one over there, is forcing Yao's brother to sleep with him!"

"… Wh' w'uld he f'rce Y'o 'nd his br'ther t' sleep t'geth'r?" Berwald replied, confused.

"No, you've got it all wrong! I meant he's raping Yao's brother!" Tino continued to whine. "He's really offending me and all that is just in these two worlds! And he's hurting Yao deep, deep down! Go punch him!"

"On 't," Berwald said, nodding.

"No, no! Wait!" Yao said, hastily stepping in front of the Swede. Berwald looked down at him, glare only accented by the light glinting off of his glasses. "I-I was just kidding, aru. There's no reason to go over there and instigate violence with Heracles."

Berwald gave him a disbelieving stare.

"_Really_," Yao assured him.

"It's okay, Berwald," Tino told him. "Yao was just being an ass."

"… If y'ur s're." Berwald muttered, and went back to talking to his friend.

"So, yeah. Details, Yao! I need them!" the Finn complained.

"He was trying to be nice to me, that's all," Yao said. "It wasn't anything special."

"… Okay…" Tino looked like he didn't think that was true, but dropped the topic, anyway. "Did you know Tchaikovsky's here?"

"… What, aru?"

"Tchaikovsky. As in, the Russian composer. _That_ Tchaikovsky."

"He's _here_? Isn't he _dead_?"

"Yeah, but he was talking to Ivan a bit ago."

"… I thought Ivan was just kidding when he said he was friends with that guy…"

"Yeah, well. Apparently not. But that's beside the point! Why aren't you with Ivan?"

"He told me to go talk to some people from the other kingdoms and try to improve their Soviet relations, but I'd rather not start an international—err, inter… kingdom incident, aru."

"Well, we know some people from the kingdom of the Nordics! They're here with us! You _have_ to meet them." Tino turned to his fiancé. "Berwald, are you finished talking to Denmark so that way I can introduce Yao to him?"

"S're," Berwald answered, and stepped back.

"Yao, this is Denmark! Denmark, this is Yao!"

Denmark waved enthusiastically.

Yao was too busy staring at his gigantic axe.

"What's up?" the Nordic asked.

"He's Ivan's fiancé," Tino explained.

"Oh…" Denmark took a moment to eye Yao up and down. "Weird. Rumor around the Nordics was that Brave Braginski was getting hitched to a dude. Oops. Sorry, Yao. I was expecting a guy, not a chick."

"… I'm not a 'chick'," Yao said with a glower.

"You're a guy? No fucking way. You look so much like some lady it's not even funny. Scratch that, it is. So is drag something you're into? Maybe you could persuade Norge into doing it," Denmark said. A look of enlightenment dawned on his face before he grabbed the person next to him around the waist and pulled him close. The other person, who resembled some kind of sailor, did not look amused. "Yao, this is Norge. He's kind of, like, mine. So don't touch him."

"I'm not private property. Imbecile," 'Norge' responded, shoving the much taller Denmark off of him. "It's _Norway_ in English, by the way."

"Nice to meet you," Yao said politely.

"Nice to meet you, too," Norway answered.

"This is Psycho Soviet's fiancé," Denmark continued. "Can you believe Big Nose Braginski is tying the knot before us?"

"We're never getting married," Norway growled. "When Hell freezes over."

"Apparently, you've never taken a good look at the Soviet Union."

"_I_ like it," Yao interrupted. "… And his nose is fine, aru."

"You're biased toward both things!" Denmark laughed. "Still. I can't believe the Vodka Vacuum is a homosexual. _And_ that he managed to score with someone who looks relatively sane. Fuck, I thought that guy was asexual. Or maybe that he had some incestuous thing for his sister with the huge chest? Damn, she's sexy…"

"You're being extremely rude to our host," Norway mumbled. "And to me."

"I'm not _trying_ to be rude!" Denmark groaned. "For God's sake, Norge. I'm just wondering how the hell Yao thought getting engaged to Icy Ivan was a _good_ idea."

"Hey! Where's Iceland?" Tino cut in.

He, fortunately, noticed Yao was fuming in anger. How could someone call Ivan all those names and not feel a sense of remorse? Didn't they know what had happened to the prince? Yao was about ready to grab Denmark's axe and slice the other's head off if he said one more bad thing about the Soviet in question. He supposed he knew how it felt to be teased by everyone. People changing their 'L' sounds to 'R' sounds, or adding 'aru' to the end of every sentence, in front of him wasn't funny.

"I kind of have no idea where that kid went," Demark said, scratching his head.

"He left because he saw you putting your hand where it doesn't belong," Norway said. "And he didn't want to see his brother in an inappropriate situation."

"Oh, please. He's walked in on us how many times?" Denmark asked.

"We're stopping this conversation here," Norway said. He looked at Yao, who caught his gaze. "Don't pay any attention to him. It's early, but he's already had one too many shots of the vodka. Ivan is great. Congratulations."

"Thanks," the lawyer murmured. "I'll… see you guys later."

"Bye, Yao!" Tino sang happily.

"Yeah," Yao answered, and sashayed away.

"Are you sure that's not a woman?" Denmark questioned those around him when he was sure Yao was out of earshot. Norway elbowed him. "Ow! What did I do?"

"Way to go, genius. You just insulted his fiancé, to his face, at a party celebrating his engagement," Norway griped. "If he tells Ivan, I'm not saving you when a metal pipe is hurled at your face."

"But you love me, Norge!"

"I wonder why."

* * *

"Ve, I found you, Yao!" Yao's eyes were covered by hands, effectively blocking his vision. Feliciano made a 'shush' motion with his lips at Ludwig, who only stared back at him with a look of incomprehension. The Italian never failed to surprise him with yet another stupid act. "Yao, guess who!"

"Feliciano," Yao automatically said.

"You're mean!" the Italian all but cried.

"What are you even doing here, aru?" Yao asked when Feliciano backed down off of him, removing his hands from the lawyer's face.

"Romano and I switched places," Feliciano said happily. "It's like that movie with Lindsay Lohan, where they swapped identities! Romano is now Feliciano Vargas and staying with Antonio, and I took his place as prince of Italy, ve! Now Ludwig and I can be together _forever_!" Feliciano latched onto the prince of Germany tightly. "Isn't that right, Ludwig? Aren't we in love?"

"… Yeah…" the uncomfortable German replied stiffly.

"Ve, what's wrong?" Feliciano asked.

"Oh, Ludwig," Ivan's soft coo of a voice floated over. An arm wound it's way around Yao's waist, making the Chinese lawyer jump at the sudden contact. "You and Feliciano—nay, _Romano_, seem to be getting very cozy. Do I foresee the kingdoms of Germany and Italy finally uniting? Maybe if you did that, you would stop failing miserably at being successful during wartime. I do suggest you take that route. It seems as if 'Romano' would be more than happy to succumb to a German invasion of Rome."

"Go capture Beijing," the German answered back, snarky.

"Have you ever seen that wall?" Ivan asked. "Impenetrable."

"I'm sure it wouldn't be much of hassle for you Soviets, since you're so _superior_."

"Ah, you are at last getting the right idea! What an intelligent dog. Would you like a treat? Ah, oops. I meant T-R-E-A-T. Dogs—save for Sputnik—are so stupid, I have heard. See, this is why you would make the perfect German shepherd in your next life! You are blindly loyal, stupid, and dangerously ignorant."

"Back off, Braginski."

"Why should I? It is too much fun messing with you."

"Don't be mean to Ludwig!" Feliciano said.

"Oh? And what will you do? Wave a white flag in my face? Save yourself the embarrassment of even constructing one," Ivan chuckled. "I did not intend to start a confrontation. My only intention was to borrow Yao. May I?"

"… Ve… We were talking…" Feliciano protested.

"My apologies," Ivan said sincerely, "but Yao is needed. After all, we _are_ betrothed."

"Okay."

"Thank you. In return, I will not hog Ludwig during your engagement celebration. Or is there no possibility of that event ever happening?"

"What…?"

"Ponder it." Ivan winked at a furious Ludwig. "Good-bye, comrade. You are most certainly welcome for my magnificent advice."

The Soviet prince led Yao away from the two by the waist. Feliciano gave his friend one last wave before turning his attention back to fawning over the German prince. Yao gave Ivan a quizzical glance, to which Ivan only responded with a genuine smile. Eventually, the prince stopped pushing through the hordes of people, either milling around or dancing, when he reached the center of the ballroom. He moved a hand to Yao's waist, and used the other to grip Yao's own hand.

"… What are you doing?" the lawyer asked tentatively.

"That dance you promised me," Ivan answered. "Put your hand on my shoulder."

"I know how to dance, aru. I'm not an idiot," Yao grumbled, but did as instructed. "Why do I have to be the woman?"

"Which one of us is wearing the dress?" the prince snickered. Yao glared at him. "Do not take that the wrong way. You make a lovely lady. I would not. That is all I meant."

"Fine. Whatever."

"Do not sound so overjoyed, Yao."

"Hmph."

"I will take that as your final consent."

Ivan looked at the conductor of the orchestra, who nodded.

Yao was surprised when the current song came to a screeching halt, making most dancers wince, and changed to something completely different.

"What happened?" he asked.

"I requested a favorite piece of mine," Ivan told him. "It is from The Nutcracker, called Waltz of the Flowers. Perhaps you remember it? That day, while we were walking through the park, I was humming it and that man, the flutist, stopped me? I hope you do. Granted, Waltz of the Flowers is from a ballet… but it now holds a sentimental value. Besides, it has the word 'waltz' in it, so… Well, enough of my prattling. Surely, it does not interest you at all. Shall we dance?"

"… Okay."

Slowly, Ivan started leading the dance, with Yao, unfortunately, following.

"This is nice, is it not?" Ivan asked him.

"Yeah, aru, it's…" Yao started to answer, then stopped.

Kiku was frantically gesturing to him from across to room. Yao narrowed his eyes in order to see more clearly. The Japanese brother kept making hand gesticulations between Yao and Ivan, trying to convey the point that he wanted Yao to _do something_. The lawyer rolled his eyes at his brother's behavior and looked away, focus going back to the person he was dancing with. Who knew Kiku was capable of _thinking_ of making that gesture that symbolized kissing? Kiku was supposed to be the innocent one.

"… Hello?" Ivan asked worriedly. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine. Kiku was just being an idiot," Yao replied.

"I thought I spotted you speaking with him earlier. Does that mean things between you are reconciled?"

"No, but… I mean…"

"At least you acknowledge him now, da?"

"I guess."

"Turns out that maybe this party was a good idea. You faced him without running away, as you do with most of your problems."

"I do _not_ run away from my problems, aru! That's highly offensive."

"But, it is the truth. What do you consider me to be? A problem, most likely. And what do you when you believe things are starting to get 'out of hand' between us? Run away."

"You're not a problem, Ivan."

"Oh, how you humor me. Thank you."

"I wasn't 'humoring' you. I meant it."

"Either way, I appreciate your kind words."

"Ivan…"

"Da?"

"Nothing, aru. It's nothing."

"If you insist."

Kiku's words rang in Yao's ear as loud as the Liberty Bell—so noisy it almost made his mind crack.

_"Yao—don't think, just do."_

Well, he was a thoughtful person by nature, and a person's characteristics couldn't just metaphorically be thrown out the window. Some probing of the circumstances at hand needed to be done. He hated his job. He hated where he lived. He hated his parents. He hated most of the people he ever came in contact with, except for the few friends and acquaintances he had. In summary, he hated his life. The Soviet Union could be a fresh start. He could do anything he wanted. He could, most importantly, be with Ivan. The prince was the one thing that made him not loathe where his life was headed. Ivan was that one, very special thing that made it possible to get up in the morning without feeling like a worthless nobody.

Even after mulling it over and over again, Yao could only grasp onto one logical conclusion.

That three-word sentence could be the answer to all of his problems.

Admitting it to himself was one thing, but saying it out loud was another.

"Ivan?" Yao asked apprehensively.

"Hmm?" The prince looked down at him, purple eyes swimming with the emotion Yao so desperately wanted to be able to express with words. "Is there something you need?"

"… Kind of… L-Listen…"

"I am."

"Ivan… I… Um, aru, I…"

"You look red. Are you positive that you are feeling well? You should retire back to our room. Papa will understand. And if he does not, I have no fears about punching him again."

"N-No! I'm fine, really. There's just something…"

"Ah. Do I reek of vodka? My apologies. But I have not had much, I assure you."

"That's not it… I…"

"Then what is it?" Ivan frowned. "I think you should go lie—"

"Iloveyou."

"… Down… You… What?"

"I _said_, aru… I love you, Ivan."

Yao felt like some sort of big weight had been lifted off of his chest.

That disconcerted look on Ivan's face made it come crashing back down.

"Da, that is what I thought you said," the prince muttered. "You are not being funny."

"… _Excuse me_?" Yao choked out. "You think that was a _joke_?"

"What else would it be?" That sullen expression was so out-of-place on Ivan. "A prank, nothing more. Papa has told me many times; who could love a brute like me? Not the fairest maiden, that is for sure."

"I do! Are you _seriously_ doubting me, aru?"

"Give me one good reason to believe you."

"Because—well, for God's sake, _I love you_. How is that _not_ a reason? How many times do you want me to say it to convince you?"

"I… I do not understand… Why?"

"_Why_? Unless you want a story-length explanation, I would just leave it as it is."

"Yao…"

"I meant it, aru. Every sound, every letter, every syllable, every word."

"Yao… This is… I love you, too."

"I know. You've told me plenty of times."

"Tell me again, please."

"Fine. I love you, Ivan."

"I could never grow tired of hearing that… Does that mean you will stay with me? Here, in the Soviet Union? And rule by my side?"

"I wouldn't have said that if I didn't plan on staying here."

"Well, of course we will go back to New York City sometime, but… That is not the point! I love you. I love you so much. This has been a dream come true, indeed." Ivan grabbed him in a tight hug; probably the tightest one he'd ever given Yao. "And they all lived happily ever after, da?"

"I think you're forgetting something, aru."

"What could I be failing to remember?" Yao rolled his eyes and looked at the prince expectantly. Finally, a bright smile broke out on Ivan's face. "Oh, right. How dare I?"

With the clock chiming to the hour of midnight in the background, the prince kissed his fairest maiden sweetly and slowly, trying to make the feeling last. Yao loved him. Yao loved him! It was still too unbelievable and unrealistic. The vigor with which he kissed the other was second to none.

Ivan pulled back, only to find Yao collapsed in his arms, eyes slid shut not from the passion, but from losing consciousness.

Natalia and King Winter exchanged a sly glance as they watched Ivan, panic-stricken, try to rouse his one true love.

* * *

**A/N**: Any of you planning on going to Otakon 2010? At the Baltimore Convention Center?


	19. Chapter XVIII

**A/N**: PRUSSIA HAS SEIZED AND OCCUPIED MY VITAL REGIONS! (_That_ should have gotten your attention, so read the rest of this A/N, please)

Sorry for the wait, guys. For once in her life, your dearest Authoress-san was struck with a case of writer's block. Probably because I have too many ideas in my head at the moment xD Such as a Greece/Japan fic (which, by the way, will be posted once finished) and a Sweden/Finland fic (already one chapter finished). Yes, **Syous99**, a SuFin fic! I always think of you whenever I write them ;)

**Um, beware. This actually got out of hand. It gets a little... _violent_.**

Also, **Yume Dust** didn't beta-read this. I wanted to update quickly before you all thought I died. But I did (not) check this through thoroughly, though. 'Through thoroughly, though'. Fuck. That was an awesome part of a sentence.

This author had a very unsurprising epiphany: Her soulmate is possibly Sweden. He is tall, blonde, and has glasses. Those are the three top things I find attractive in a guy. He is also very sexy.

B... But Germany is just more appealing, for some reason. Actually, wait... DAMN IT, YOU GUYS, I CAN'T CHOOSE. The epic debate: Germany or Sweden?

On my poll, four of you (so far) voted for England as the sexiest APH guy? Excuse me, but whoever voted for that, please explain in the last bit of your review or in a Private Message. I don't know if you're blind and don't notice the huge eyebrows, or if you find that attractive. To each their own. Also, he's friends with ponies and fairies and unicorns. England is a covert pervert. GERMANY IS A REAL MAN. High five to all of the six of you (so far) who have voted Germany as the sexiest APH dude. But hands off. I claim Germany _and_ Sweden for **prayingforlove**.

**With a heavy heart, I present to you the last legitimate chapter of Enchanted.**

Watch for God (typos). No, really, I tried to read this as best as I could, but really. Typos. Anybody...?

* * *

There was a pause. A pause that, to Ivan, seemed to last a lifetime. Neither could a sound be heard nor could a movement been seen. All that he could focus on was Yao, in his arms, unresponsive. Finally, a couple other dances started to crowd around him. More and more people wafted toward him, chanting a chorus of annoying 'Oh no's and 'What happened?'s. A collective shriek that was emitted from the multitude of people rang throughout the ballroom when all candles were suddenly blown out. Everyone started to turn this way and that, looking for someone to latch onto. Ivan collected Yao in his arms, bridal style, to avoid anyone bumping into him.

Someone grabbed his shoulder.

"Found you!"

_Natalia_.

"Did you do this?" Ivan asked her faintly visibly shadow.

"With help from yours truly, of course," King Winter's voice sounded from somewhere.

"What is happening?" the prince questioned. "This is not acceptable!"

"You speak the truth," King Winter continued. "This is most definitely not acceptable. Syn, hand me Yao so that way I may throw his body in a carriage headed to the barren unknown. He will no longer be a most irritating inconvenience."

"Inconvenience?" Ivan repeated. "Yao is—"

"A piece of peasant garbage who must be disposed of properly. That is what you were going to say, da?" King Winter laughed. "I thought so."

"Do not make me punch you again."

"Oh, my silly little syn. You are too rash. Do think of the situation wisely for a moment. You, a prince of pure Soviet blood, were celebrating your engagement to Wang Yao, who is nothing more than a man from the lowest of the low? Sickening. I will not have the royal Soviet line mingle with disgusting Chinese heritage. It is simply not right. The bloodline should not be horribly tainted. Which is why Wang Yao is dead! You are welcome. Now you may marry the sweet Natalia." Natalia grabbed onto Ivan's arm with a tight grip. "One of true Soviet blood. Who would be better than your own half-sister to keep the throne pure?"

"_Sister_?"

"Your stepmother and I… Honestly, I do not know why your stepmother did this, but… She kept Natalia hidden." King Winter shrugged. "Enough of that nonsense. She is now here and ready to be wed!"

"I told you we would be married," Natalia whispered affectionately. "We're soulmates! We can get married!"

"No," Ivan said, ripping his arm out of the crazy witch's grasp. "My soulmate is Yao."

"Perhaps you did not hear the part where Papa said he is dead!" Natalia said happily. "Dead, Brother! He is dead! Now no one stands between us!"

"… If he is dead, then why is he breathing? Were you ever taught?"

"What? T-That's not possible! I killed him!"

"Oh, you did this? I will be sure to kill you when I get around to it."

"Brother! How could you kill me? We're getting married!"

"I highly doubt that. Reverse whatever you did to Yao and maybe I will let you out of this room with your head still attached to your body."

"Syn—" the king cut in.

"That goes for you, too, Papa," Ivan said. "I would enjoy seeing the contents of your head spilled out on the floor, as it is full of candy. What a wonderful way to end a party with free candy!"

"Do not get so haughty with me," King Winter hissed. "What we did to Yao, we can do to you."

"I would like to know what you did to him, actually."

"I first tried to lure him away from you, but that did not work. I then resorted to Plan B—poison. Natalia poisoned an apple, and I had it served to him this morning."

"And he fell for it!" Natalia added. "Wouldn't you rather marry someone much smarter?"

"I would like to marry Yao, believe it or not. I hate you," the prince said.

"Lies! I know you are lying! I know this whole betrothal is a cover-up!" Natalia gripped his sleeve desperately. "I know! I sent you to New York City, and I opened the portal that would bring you back here! I did it all! But… But then you had to come back with _him_. He ruined it all! I know you two are in love, but your mind is only playing tricks on you! You don't _love_ him. Y-You just love him because he's the first person to ever care about you—other than me! And do you honestly think _he_ loves _you_? No! He doesn't! But _I_ do. I obviously do. I would tell you every day, instead of when I gathered the courage."

"Yao's hesitance is part of his charm. He went things over in his head before he said them out loud. Why would he tell me he loved me if he did not know for sure? I believed—nay, _believe_ him. You, on the other hand, seem to blurt it all out without thinking. That is not attractive." Ivan sighed. "Natalia, undo whatever you did my dearest Yao before I hand him off to Kiku. I assure you that once my hands are free, I will rip your eyes out like I did to Alfred's stuffed bunny when we were younger."

"B-But—!"

"I would never hurt a family member of mine—other than Papa—but if violence helps you understand my point, then so be it. There is nothing between us. I do not love you. I hate you. You are quite vexing. I would not marry you if you were the last person in the Soviet Union. I love Yao. You are not him. Do you get it now? Should I reword it another way?"

"Brother…"

"Syn," King Winter interrupted, "be careful with what you say."

"Hmm…" Ivan smiled. "I think not! I also hate you! Here I am, not being careful with what I say! What are you going to do about it?"

"Syn…" the king growled.

"You are an old and a bloodthirsty dictator! You are cold like the snow outside! You are—"

Thankfully, with the bit of moonlight streaming through the windows, Ivan could see his father's fist coming toward his face. With polished skill gained from years of war, he stepped out of the way, and watched as his father's clenched hand smashed into Natalia right on the nose. Kiku stood close by, starting intently, and was startled when a very determined prince dumped his brother into his arms. Heracles, fortunately, steadied him. Natalia, holding her bloody nose with one hand, flailed an arm out to hit whoever was nearest. She managed to shove a frail King Winter onto the ground with her impressive strength. Well, at least that took care of that. The Soviet prince put the bottom of his boot on top of the king's chest, feeling the shallow breaths being taken in by the other.

"Oops!" Ivan said cheerfully. "You seem to have fallen, Papa! Try to stand up before my foot slowly crushes your ribs!"

"Syn…" King Winter coughed. "This is…!"

"This is great, is it not?" Ivan put a little more weight on the foot holding down his father. "It is like that torture method you are so fond of! That one where you put rocks on top of one's chest until they cannot breathe! Da, let us play that fun game. With each wavering of yours, I will squash you even more! Answer the first question—What is so wrong with Yao?"

"_Everything_."

"Oh, no! Was that noise I heard the sound of one of your bones cracking? Hurry up and tell me!"

"H-He is not right for you! He is ugly and poor and uptight and _Chinese_…"

"Enough with the racism. It is making me want to kill you this second. And I will let you know that Yao is the most beautiful thing to ever walk in the lands of the Soviet Union! He is even prettier than Mama!" King Winter's eyes widened. Ivan's smile grew. "Mama, do you already forget her? The woman I killed? Da, Mama! I look like her, do I not? What a shame for you to have to look at me every day and see a reflection of the woman you once loved. How horrible you must feel when you remember that she is dead! Is that what you would like me to feel? If Yao is dead, who is to say that I will not end up like you? An insane old man whose only friend is alcohol…"

"T-That is not—"

"Oh, but it _is_ you! Da, that is a good description of you! In fact—"

Ivan was cut off when Natalia snatched his arm and tugged him away from his father.

"Don't," she ordered, but her voice was obscured by the hand holding her nose.

"My apologies," Ivan said with a shrug. "Dearest Natalia, you _will_ give me Yao back this instant, da?"

"No. _We_ are going to be married!"

"Your silly game has gone far enough. Thanks to you, King Winter is on the floor taking his last gulps of air. Would you care to join him?"

"Brother!"

"Natalia, we are… siblings, da? We want to see each other happy. Yao is the one thing that makes me happy."

"Marrying you would make _me_ happy!"

"… So maybe we cannot fulfill everyone's wishes. But we must do what we can! You can return Yao back to full consciousness, or I can make you beg for mercy, and not in the good way. Your choice."

"But—"

"We apparently are siblings, Natalia. There is… suddenly… a place for you in my heart that has never been there before. Settle for that, and only that." The prince patted the witch's head awkwardly. "You are a… tenacious… and… steadfast… person. Da, those are good words. Find somebody who will appreciate those qualities of yours. I will let you live if you give me back Yao and never show your face in my castle ever again. Deal?"

"But—"

"Oh, you just signed your own death certificate! Now you will only be allowed to live long enough to bring back my love—that person _not_ being you! Go on and do it quickly."

"Brother…"

"Three…"

"Brother!"

"Two…"

"I-Ivan!"

"_One_! Now, Natalia! Before you journey with Papa to Hell!"

"Do you honestly think you'd be able to kill _me_…?"

"Would it entertain you to see me try?"

"Why would you kill me? I-I didn't do anything wrong…!"

"And that is precisely why Yao is unconscious?"

"It was partially your fault, too!"

"How?"

"You kissed him. That was the trigger."

"… I thought kissing woke someone up? Not put them to sleep. This is all very confusing…"

"He's not even supposed to be asleep! He was meant to be _dead_! You were supposed to kill him!"

"That plan obviously did not work out too well, hmm? I would never kill my beloved Yao, by accident or on purpose. It is 'fate', da?"

"No—"

"Da, it is. Do not argue, Natalia! You are very terrifying, I will give you that, but when you threaten Yao, my fear of you goes away. Odd! This pointless chatter is doing nothing, do you agree?"

"You are lying! Why do you love him…? What does he have that I don't?"

"A heart, for starters."

"I have a heart! With it I feel love for you!"

"That is… just peachy and all, but…"

"You _will_ marry me!" Natalia released her nose, and with her bloodied hand, snatched the knife hidden inside her dress. She stood on her toes and held it close to the prince's neck, but Ivan only raised an eyebrow. That arrogant, unfeeling, and infuriating smile was still plastered on his features. Natalia wanted to slice it directly off of his face. "If I can't have you, no one will!"

"You now wish to kill _me_? I think not." Ivan seized the arm holding the blade and twisted it behind her back in a way that no arm should rightly bend. Natalia screeched at the pain overflowing her senses, trying to pull back, and half of the crowd gasped at the sickening, cracking sound her arm made. Kiku almost fainted, but Heracles quickly supported him. "Does this hurt? My apologies. But it is necessary! How _dare_ you hold a knife to the prince of the Soviet Union!"

"Y-You deserved it!"

"You deserve the death penalty, as does Papa." Ivan reached down and clutched his father's arm, heaving the old man upward with one harsh jerk. He held both Natalia's and King Winter's wrists above his head, causing them to be lifted off of the ground. Natalia kicked and screamed, but King Winter stayed limp. The horde of guests yelped in fear when the prince walked around, showing off his two prizes to the masses, and declared, "People of the Soviet Union, and of the invited kingdoms, these _menaces_ are hereby marked as treasonous! The death penalty is their medal for their bravery! How to deal with them is the question…"

"Impalement!" someone cried out.

"Off with their heads!" another hollered.

"The first suggestion was not so bad," Ivan said, shrugging.

"You can't!" Kiku interrupted. He handed Yao off to a surprised prince of Greece before breaking through the people in the crowd to reach Ivan. The Soviet stared down at the small Japanese man, waiting for an explanation. "You can't just _kill_ them… That's not how the story ends! I-If you don't do it the correct way, who knows what will happen…?"

"Well…" Ivan paused. "All right. We will do this your way. How did your story end?"

"A poison apple. You have to make Natalia eat one," Kiku elaborated. "I'm not entirely sure what you should do with your father, though… He wasn't in the story, in fact."

"Oh. At least we know what to do with Natalia." Ivan set the witch on her feet and released her wrist. Natalia looked at him, yearning for the other to return her feelings, but Ivan brushed off her anguish with an icy cool glare and a hostile grin. "Natalia, listen to me, there are some things you must do. It is required, so do not try to weasel your way out of this. After all, I do believe all the tricks up your sleeve are gone!" Ivan poked her warped and useless arm. "Not much black magic in you now, is there?"

"What do you want?" Natalia ground out. "Y-You've already taken everything from me…!"

"Oh, please, stop the water works. They will fool absolutely nobody. I stand strong in my decision that you will be punished for your actions. First, you must return Yao back to full alertness. Failure to comply with the first condition will result in unspeakable things."

"As if I'd give you that _thief_ back! He stole you from me!"

"I have heard of my kingdom's plan to populate Siberia. Thank you for volunteering."

"Ivan…"

"Second, open a portal to New York City using the… um, the fountain in the garden. Then, of course, you must conjure up another one of those poison apples, and eat it yourself. If you love me, you will do this for me, da?"

"But—"

"If you do what I have asked of you, I… promise to marry you."

"… You will?"

"Da, of course! You are such a charming and beautiful young woman. But you should wake Yao. Once he learns that I am yours, he will die of a broken heart. And you would enjoy seeing that, da? I would, too."

Kiku frowned.

"Go along with it," Ivan turned his head and whispered to him softly. The prince looked at Natalia, hope sparkling in her blue eyes. "I mean everything I am saying. You must do the mandatory tasks before we can even become betrothed, though."

"All right." Natalia nodded. "But you have to break off your engagement to _him_."

"I do not see how that would accomplish anything…"

"It would prove me to the truth behind your words!"

"Ah, you see… about that…"

"You aren't _lying_, are you?"

"No! Why would I lie to you? My… sweet… Natalia."

"Good! Then announce that you're severing all ties to that Chinese trash and are now mine! Say it, loudly so that everyone can hear you! Only _then_ is it official!"

"Why must you be so… Ugh…"

"Don't do it, Brother!" Ukraine wailed from the crowd.

"Shut up!" Natalia yelled at her. "Go away and sob somewhere else like the baby you are!"

"Do not insult Ukraine," Ivan told her. "She is your older sister!"

"My… older sister…?" Natalia repeated.

"Da! She is mine, therefore, she is yours! Marvelous, do you think not? And King Winter is your father, too. And Toris will be one of your best friends, as he is one of mine. And Eduard and Raivis, then. Oh, and how could I forget Feliks! I am sure Feliks would simply _love_ to do your hair and make up for our wedding, da?"

"N-No… It should be just us!"

"My apologies, but that is not how things work around here. If you want to be my fiancée, you must get used to it."

"I don't want to…!"

"Then you are not worthy of the throne next to mine. Only Yao is. Are you getting that?"

"_I_ am! The queen's throne was made for _me_!"

"I think not! Stupid Natalia." Ivan bopped her on the head with his fist. "It is marry me and live in this castle with these freaks for the rest of your life—" Feliks shouted a 'Hey!' but Toris elbowed him, "—or _do what I have asked_. The second choice is better!"

"F-Fine…"

"Oh, _finally_! This was taking fucking forever!" Denmark erupted.

"Would you be quiet?" Norway told him, frantic.

"… Ignore that…" Ivan muttered. "But I do agree. It has taken you much too long to do something, Natalia. Just give me back Yao and leave the kingdom at once!"

"_Fine_! Do whatever the hell you want! I don't care!" Tears streaked down Natalia's face as she snapped with her good hand. "I hope you're happy, Brother!"

With that, the witch disappeared in a puff of purple smoke.

Ivan and Kiku exchanged a worried glance.

"Oh, h-hey, guys?" Heracles cut in. "Could someone give me a hand…?"

"What?" Kiku said, and looked over at this lover, only to find Yao squirming in the other's grip. Ivan immediately dropped King Winter when he saw the one he loved floundering, and, most importantly, alive. "Yao!"

"Give me him!" Ivan demanded, and snatched the lawyer out of the fellow prince's hold. Heracles only stared at his now empty arms, puzzled. Kiku let out a small laugh at his expression. Ivan gingerly set the swaying Yao on his feet and held his shoulders. "Yao…? Are you doing well? Please, tell me you can hear me…"

"Hmm?" Yao's eyelids fluttered open, and he looked at Ivan, uncomprehending. "Oh, hello, aru. Am I dead?"

"… Excuse me?" Ivan asked. "No, no, you're quite among the living. Thank goodness."

"What happened?" the lawyer responded groggily.

"Natalia and Papa. They… tried to kill you. But I saved you from them, so do not worry!"

"Yeah?" Yao raised an eyebrow. "What, exactly, did you do?"

"Nothing that could not be justified…"

"Like…? Don't tell me you killed somebody, aru."

"Define your definition of the word 'kill'."

"… You didn't."

"Kiku said I had to make Natalia eat a poison apple, or else the story would not end. And, as for Papa… I do not think you would mind."

"You shouldn't attack your own father."

"… You just woke up, and you are already yelling at me…? This feels romantic."

"Whatever. So, aru, thanks. For saving me, I mean. That was really… heroic of you. I guess you're a real prince, since you saved your fairest maiden."

"Da, I suppose I am." Ivan hesitated. "… You know, the prince always earns a reward from the fairest maiden."

"… Do you want a lock of my hair or something cliché like that?"

"No… thank you… You can keep it…"

"I'm kidding. Just kiss me, idiot."

It took Ivan a moment to rebound from the sudden shock of Yao's arms around his neck and lips against his, but thankfully, he got over it and pressed back with as much fervor as the other. The prince hoisted his fairest maiden up and groaned when Yao's legs wrapped around his waist.

Most of the people coughed awkwardly and wandered away when things quickly got way past an appropriate level.

* * *

"If I could have your attention, please!" Ukraine stood up from her place at the table. Yao gave Ivan an anxious look as if to say 'What is she doing?'. Ivan only smiled and waved his hand in the air to be reassuring, but Yao still wasn't exactly sure. The guests all turned their attention to the main table at the front of the room. "Well… I certainly hope I don't cry up here… It's tradition that someone makes a toast to the… honorary… bride and groom, so here I am! Um, let's see here, I wrote it down somewhere…"

"The table, Ukraine," Ivan whispered to her. "You hid it under your glass."

"Oh, thank goodness! I thought I lost it!" Ukraine said, relieved. After retrieving a neatly folded sheet of stationary from underneath her champagne glass and straightening out her paper, she coughed again to regain everybody's focus. "Uh, well, I've know my brother for a long time and… I regret following Papa's orders and never giving him the time of day, but I love him anyway. He's not the most… appealing person… nor the most compassionate… and the wars have given him that icy exterior…" Ivan frowned, and Yao patted his shoulder. Ukraine sent him a teary, apologetic look. "B-But that's not what I'm trying to say! It's just that… my little Vanya… he's all grown up now and in love and married and… and…! Yao's turned him from frozen like Siberia to warm like those sunflowers he's so fond of. He and Yao, my favorite little 'sister', a-are going to be the best rulers the Soviet Union ever had a-and I wish them every happiness."

It was quiet, except for Ukraine's loud sobbing, until Yong Soo leapt up from his chair and whooped loudly, punching the air with his fist. The guests in the hall eventually clapped once the ice was broken thanks to Yao's obnoxious brother.

"I have something to say, too!" the long lost prince of Korea shouted above the noise. "So shut up for a minute, 'kay?"

"No, you don't," Hong Kong muttered. "Just sit down and stop making a scene…"

"No way! I have this all planned out!" Yong Soo cleared his throat as the clapping and cheering died down. "Okay! This speech will be awesome, since I invented speeches. Don't worry, Yao!"

Yao leaned into Ivan, pressing his face on the other's shoulder, as he was already mortified.

"Let's see… Where should I start…" the Korean pondered.

"I thought you said you planned—" Hong began.

"Shush! Great genius is always spontaneous! I _am_ Prince Yong Soo The Genius, after all. Anyway, oh, yeah! Yao's been my adopted big brother for a long time, and even though he's the prissiest person I've ever known, he was a really good role model! In comparison to everybody else, I mean. Out of our family, he got the short end of the stick, and it's not like Kiku or I did anything to make him feel better… We're kind of the reason he didn't trust people quickly, so… Yeah… But then along came the seriously freaky Ivan! He totally seduced my uptight brother and loosened him up. Kind of. And, yeah, they're in love and stuff and I would know because Yao looks at Ivan the way Hong looks at me, only with more emotion! Not to mention I invented love." Francis was about to shout something at _that_, but Matthew clamped a hand over the Frenchman's mouth stealthily. "Back to my main point—even though Yao is a miserable prick, Ivan makes him happy, so they got my blessing! Here's to many more years full of fun with Asians and now apparently Soviets and Greeks and everybody else!"

Silence.

"That. Was. Awesome," Alfred declared, loud enough that Arthur elbowed his side and called him some weird British slang word for 'idiot'. "Dude, that was probably one of _the_ most humiliating and embarrassing speeches of all time!"

"Yeah, I try my best!" Yong Soo shrugged. "I could have made it way more awkward, though."

"Please, don't," Hong begged.

"Oh, come on! This story is funny—I swear!" the Korean continued. "Okay, so, the first time I ever went to Yao's law firm—"

"Shut up, aru!" Yao shouted at him. "That's not humorous at all!"

"Jeez. Just trying to have a little fun here!" Yong Soo grumbled.

"Sit down," Hong said.

"Can I sit on your lap?" Yong Soo asked, grinning.

Hong frowned sternly.

The Korean finally got the message and slunk into his chair like a scolded puppy.

"Hey, since this is kind of a free-for-all, can I say something?" Tino yelled.

"No!" Yao said back. "You'll say something weird!"

"_Really_, Yao? You're just paranoid!" Tino whined.

"Fine. Whatever," Yao mumbled, crossing his arms and looking at Ivan. "I thought this was supposed to be some sort of highly respected tradition, aru. Why are you letting my crazy friends and family ruin it?"

"Ruin it? No, no!" Ivan said, smiling. "They are making it all the more entertaining! Speeches to the bride and groom are almost always boring, and I enjoy seeing your friends put some life into it. It is most certainly a highlight of the evening."

"Yeah, well…"

"What?"

"Nothing."

"Hmm." Ivan nudged his shoulder amicably. "You are simply too cute to resist. Good thing we are married now, da?"

Yao decided to let that comment pass.

"Anyway!" Tino's perpetually chipper voice cut in his moping time. "I only have one thing to say. Don't—"

"I swear to God, if you're going end that with 'be a fool', just shut up!" Yao hollered.

"_No_, I wasn't! Don't be silly, grab your willy!"

"Okay, that's it, speeches are over, aru."

"Wait! But it's your honeymoon tonight, right? I just thought it fit the topic."

"It doesn't!"

"Well, 'don't be a fool, wrap your tool' doesn't matter anymore since you guys are married!"

"How does that not matter? A-And it's not like we already—"

"Number one, it just doesn't. Number two, you should have taken the car for a test drive before you bought it!"

"Would you stop making up weird phrases?"

"Aww, you're mean!"

"M'ybe y'u sh'uld s't d'wn," Berwald interrupted.

"Fine." Tino huffed, rolling his eyes, and plopped back down in his fiancé's lap. Needless to say Berwald was surprised, but overall happy about the turn of events. "At least _you_ listen to me."

"Alw'ys w'll."

"I do not understand," Ivan said to Yao. "Why should I wrap a tool? I do not own any, unless the pipe counts."

"He's saying 'use protection' in an extremely unflattering way," Yao explained. "Do you get it now?"

"Oh. I see! So it is about condoms, da?" The groom nodded enthusiastically. "The Soviet Union might not be so technologically advanced in comparison to others, but we have those. Alfred and I once had a fight over who wore the biggest size!"

"Really."

"I won."

"… That's…" Yao blushed. "That's great, aru… I-I don't care!"

"Hey, man!" Alfred said, annoyed. "Don't diss my Florida! It's _huge_! Yours is just abnormal, for fuck's sake!"

"Saying that may help your self-esteem, but in the long run, mine is bigger and you are jealous!" Ivan teased. "Wimpy little Alfred cannot satisfy his British lover."

"Whoa, you're going _way_ too far!" The American stormed over to their table and all but strangled Ivan, grabbing the Soviet's scarf and shaking it repeatedly. "I'll tell you that he likes it and is totally satiated with my talent! So… so, you can suck it, Braginski! Suck it long, and suck it hard! And you guys probably haven't even done the nasty yet! Traditional freaks! Who's more awesome _now_? Obviously me, since _I'm_ the hero!"

"You are not a hero! Who saved you when you were almost killed by a soldier of Ludwig's? I did! If anything, _I_ am a hero!"

"No way, dude! Quit being such an asshole! You practically never saved me!"

"I did, too! You are much too stubborn and stupid, Sir Alfred F. Jones. It is a wonder that the land of America even allowed your idiocy to infest and spread."

"Man, you're such a dick!"

"Mine is still bigger than yours."

"That's just—!"

"Guys, guys," Yao intervened, standing and shoving the American's hands off of his now-husband's scarf. "You're getting a little inappropriate for a _wedding_, don't you think?"

"My apologies," Ivan replied sweetly, taking his hand and kissing it. Yao adverted his eyes, still somewhat not over the whole 'public display of affection' thing, and when he wasn't looking, his husband winked and stuck his tongue out at Alfred.

"Hey!" Alfred shouted. "Yao, Yao! Your 'one true love' or whatever bullshit is being rude!"

"Don't be such a child, aru," Yao said, frowning and tugging his hand back. "Both of you."

"I am not a child," Ivan protested. "Alfred is a provoker. For those of you who do not understand—_Alfred_—that means one who provokes."

"I _know_ what that means!" Alfred complained.

"Would you two stop being complete morons?" the lawyer sighed. "It's getting on my nerves."

"Da. Shoo, Alfred! I cannot have you destroying my lovely bride's good mood," Ivan said.

"I'm not a bride."

"Well, technically speaking—"

"I'm _not_ the bride, aru!"

"What does that make me, then? Not a groom?"

"… Well… I don't know. We're equals."

"Of course, of course. My apologies for being a… what did you say… moron? Da, a moron."

"It's fine, okay?" Yao turned to the American knight, who was still irritated by a certain Soviet. "Thanks for coming, Alfred. I'm glad you could make it."

"Yeah?" Alfred visibly perked up. "Well, you know, I had to do some convincing to make Arthur come with me because he wasn't about to 'jump in some bloody pond in the dark', but you get the gist. He caved. I wouldn't have missed this for the world! Not to mention the opportunity to openly harass Braginski was too good to pass up."

"Who is married and who is not?" Ivan asked. Alfred frowned. "Exactly."

"That's on my list of things to do. Eventually," Alfred said with a shrug.

"Sure, because Arthur over there looks like the marrying type who would want to wed an imbecile like you."

"Chill out, man. Arthur's pretty awesome."

"I was not denying that. I was just saying that since he is 'awesome', he must have common sense. Therefore, he would never marry you."

"Dude, seriously. Fuck off."

"You are at _my_ table. Oh, and speaking of Arthur, he looks lonely. Better go comfort him, da?"

As soon as Alfred walked away, muttering to himself about a specific jackass, Ivan sighed.

"_My_ friends apparently really know how to kill the romantic mood," he said, giving Yao a disappointed look. "My apologies. Some days I wish Alfred would go hang himself and rid my sight from such an aggravating eyesore."

"… Seriously, I thought you guys were friends?" Yao asked.

"Da, we are. He is one of my _best_ friends! In fact, he would be my… fifth best friend."

"Oh, aru? Only fifth?"

"You are my first best friend. And then Toris, then Eduard, and then not so much Raivis but I am obliged to put him high on my list… Alfred is fifth, see? But you rank so much higher than everyone else that I am privileged to call you my one true love." Ivan chuckled. "Or, rather, my bride?"

"Say that one more time and this high heel goes up your ass, you creep."

"Fine, fine, my fairest maiden. I am curious, though. Why did they—"

"I don't know! Ask Feliks! He's the one who shoved them on my feet."

"Well, the shoes are pretty. They compliment your wedding dress."

"Get that amused look off of your face before I _smack_ it off, aru!"

"We have been over this many times—seeing you in a dress is not funny to me. It is actually very enticing. But, now that we are married, I no longer have to hold back! I can just do _this_." Ivan reached for Yao and quickly tangled a gloved hand in the lawyer's silky black hair, his other hand choosing to rest scandalously on Yao's thigh. Yao sputtered, indignant, as almost everyone's eyes were on them. "Oh, do not make such a fuss. We are married! They should expect this kind of thing."

"This is still—"

"Yao."

"What?"

"Stop the stammering protests and listen. I just…" Ivan took a moment to think before shaking his head. "I love you, but… saying that does not even encompass my feelings…"

"Ivan…" Yao sighed.

"It is true."

"Hey, aru, don't get so sentimental, or else I'll cry like your sister or something."

"Ah, do not cry, Yao! I only wanted you to know."

"Thanks. Love you, too."

Ivan beamed genuinely.

Yao tried to a crack a smile back, but soon enough, his lips happened to be a little preoccupied.

* * *

**A/N**: LOL FAIL END. Kidding. Maybe. Please notice how 'The End' is not written at the bottom.

A laughably historically inaccurate bullshit and cracky epilogue is coming to a theater near you.

An acceptance speech? Well, okay C: I would especially like to thank Yong Soo for deciding to show his face in this chapter. And whoever gave me the 'don't be silly, grab your willy' line. I forget who they are (I _know_ I mentioned them earlier) but consider this sentence your failure of a shout out.

BIG QUESTION THAT NEEDS ANSWERING, PLEASE:

Okay, so.** lady-ribbon** and I are going to have a one-shot war once this is finished, but I'll also still be writing my Greece/Japan fic. Do honestly want me to wait until it's over before I post it, or do you just want me to get it over with and post that thing? Your choice.

SEE YOU SOON FOR THE CONCLUSION OF ENCHANTED. Stay tuned.


	20. Epilogue

**A/N**: The epilogue of Enchanted. Sad, sad day. Put me on your alerts, because I'll come up with more shit soon! And I'd love to see the people who joined my Enchanted bandwagon again for some more fanfiction fun! C: Let's get some more people to join the Russia/China crowd, huh? TELL YOUR FRIIIIIIIIEEEEEEEENDS~ RoChu Revolution! Also, go put **lady-ribbon** on your alerts. This one-shot war has officially started, mothertruckers.

I hope you enjoy this. I'm kind of making a reference (is that the right word...?) to the prologue, you guys. If you don't remember, go back and read it. And then you will understand this. Also, I hate OCs. (Unless they're the State-tans! PENNSYLVANIA/DELAWARE FTW) Just... putting that out there. My hate for OCs explains the asshattery beneath that horizontal bar. See it? See it, right there? GO READ IT. Nah, kidding, read the lines below this sentence, too.

If you have reviewed this story even _once_, review again to let me know who you are so that way I can thank you properly! It would take forever to list all of you here, so~ You get the gist.

P.S. This is so cracky and so historically inaccurate that you might find yourself going, "WTF." The fluff. The fluuuuuuff. It'll make your eyes _bleed_. So clichéeeeeeeee. But this needed to be done, you guys. I needed some more fluff for my RoChu sandwich.

THE LOVE, GUYS. THE LOVE. I LOVE YOU ALL AND I WANT TO SEE YOU AGAIN _REALLY_ SOON! (You also love me, da?) I WILL NOW GO IN A CORNER AND CRY BECAUSE I WILL MISS YOU ALL DEARLY (for the time being, that is :DDDD).

This fic was also meant to be educational. If you feel as if you can't take anything away from this enchanted experience (haha thats a pun right there u gais), I want you to remember at least one thing:

**DON'T BE A FOOL, WRAP YOUR TOOL.**

* * *

"Mama, will you tell me a story?"

"… Taiwan, I've told you plenty of times, I'm not 'mama'. It's '_baba'_."

"But Kiku told me—"

"And what did I say about listening to either one of your uncles?"

"You told me not to, because they're a 'bad influence'."

"Exactly, aru."

"At least Kiku tells me stories when I ask him to! I'll just go live with him! I like him more, anyway!"

"Oh, _no_, you don't." Yao scooped up Taiwan in his arms and placed her back down on her bed before she could charge through the doorway. It wasn't unusual to see the little princess running around the castle in her pink nightgown with Yao chasing after her because she refused to go to bed, but it was late, and Yao didn't feel like playing a game. Taiwan pouted, her brown eyes clearly conveying displeasure. "Papa and I love you very much. We'd be sad if you left us. You're our special little girl, Taiwan."

"But Yong Soo said I'm not your real daughter…"

Yong Soo was officially on the list of people whose vital regions Yao wanted to hurt painfully the next time they were seen. Granted, this was about the millionth time that the Korean had been listed, but still. It counted.

"Well… no, aru… you're not. But you already knew that." Yao sat down on the bed next to Taiwan and collected the girl into his lap. "Papa and I still love you anyway."

"I love you, too, Mama."

Well, maybe Yao could let the name 'mama' slide. Just this once.

"Will you tell me a story _now_?" Taiwan whined, grabbing onto his hair and tugging it. "I want to hear a fairytale!"

"Do you want to hear a _real_ fairytale?" Yao asked.

"Fairytales aren't real!"

"This one is."

"Okay, but you have to start it with 'once upon a time'. That's how all fairytales start."

"I know, I know, aru." Yao sighed. "Once upon a time, there lived a very lonely man in a place called New York City."

"Where's that?"

"I'll take you there someday when you're older, but right now, you need to hush or else I won't finish the story."

"No, Mama!" Taiwan pulled his hair again. "You _have_ to finish it!"

"All right, all right. Your father spoils you too much."

"Papa loves me!"

"Do you want me to keep going or not, aru?"

"Continue!"

"Good. The lonely man was—"

"What was his name?"

"His name was Yao."

"But that's _your_ name!"

"So it is."

"Is this a story about _you_?"

"Maybe, aru, you'll be able to find out if you stay _quiet_." Taiwan pursed her lips, signaling that Yao should begin again. "So, as I was saying, there was Yao, the lonely man from New York City. He was antisocial, which led him to have possibly around three good friends, and was at odds with his two younger brothers, Kiku and Yong Soo. _Especially_ Kiku. Yao disliked Kiku very much because he believed that Kiku left him. He mainly didn't like Yong Soo because Yong Soo was an _idiot_, aru. Then, one day, everything changed."

"Are you getting to the good part now?"

"Every part of a story is good. Be patient and listen."

"If this is a story about you, why aren't Papa and I in it?"

"I was just getting there."

"Is this when the story gets happy?"

"Well, happier than it was, aru."

"Do you swear? I don't like sad stories."

"I swear. Not another word until the story is over, do you hear?"

"Yes, Mama."

"You'd probably be quiet if Papa was telling you this story, hmm?"

"No! Papa tells bad stories! They all have to do with either you or sunflowers. Sometimes both. And _I_ think pink flowers are prettier, but he doesn't listen to me when I tell him that. He always says, 'Not as pretty as your mother, though!', and it's _really_ annoying."

"Mother, huh?"

"That's what Papa calls you…"

"I'll have to talk to him about that, aru. _Anyway_, during the afternoon on a nice spring day, Yao met a prince from the kingdom of the Soviet Union, named Ivan Braginski, or Prince Ivan The Brave. Just as his name stated, he was very brave for putting up with Yao, because Yao was stubborn and rude and hated when people got close to him. But, somehow, aru, Yao managed to fall in love with Ivan, and Ivan fell in love with Yao. Of course, all Yao did was deny it, and that was very bad. Ivan kept trying to get Yao to admit that he loved him, but it never worked until they traveled to the Soviet Union with the… _help_…" Yao was still kind of pissed at Romano for shoving him in the pond, "of a friend.

"Once they were there, they pretended to be engaged for their own sake, or else Ivan's father, King Winter as he was then, would not give his son the throne, aru. Ivan and Yao faked their betrothal quite well, but that was most likely because they were already in love with each other, despite Yao and his stupid tendencies to push the other away. And he did that _many_ times. So many times, in fact, that Ivan eventually gave up on him!"

"No!" Taiwan gasped. "The prince should never give up!"

"He's not your average fairytale prince, Taiwan. And Yao isn't a completely normal fairest maiden, aru."

"Whatever, whatever! You stopped at a good part! Keep going!"

"Excuse me?"

"Keep going, _please_."

"There you go. Now, back to the story… Ivan and Yao eventually had a party to celebrate their 'engagement', and do you remember that one brother, Kiku, who Yao despised?" Taiwan nodded. "He, in a… rather forceful… way, tried to help Yao realize his feelings for Ivan. Trust me when I say it was very obvious, aru, and Yao was just obstinate. Yao, being the somewhat downcast and cynical person he always was around people he didn't like, dismissed Kiku's words and advice. Later, Yao mingled with all of his friends and other guests until Ivan asked him to dance… Wait… Okay, so Ivan secretly asked Yao to dance with him in a very romantic way earlier. Keep that in mind. So, they danced and… had lots of fun, I guess, aru… but then Yao finally got his act together and told Ivan he loved him."

"_Finally_!"

"Hey! I resent that."

"You were _mean_ to Papa! Making him wait so long that he had to give up!"

"I wasn't mean! Just… insecure!"

"Get on with the story, Mama! Now you're making _me_ wait forever…"

"Well, maybe if the peanut gallery didn't keep commenting, I wouldn't have to keep stopping. Now, this is where it gets scary. When Ivan and Yao kissed, aru," Yao ignored the soft 'ew' coming from Taiwan, "the latter fell asleep! Natalia had poisoned him with an apple, and with Ivan's kiss, he would die. But, of course, true love conquered all and Yao only fell asleep. It also turned out that King Winter, Ivan's own _father_, was involved in the entire mess and helped Natalia try to kill Yao, aru! You see, Natalia wanted Yao out of her way so then she could have Ivan all to herself. She did not love Ivan with all her heart, though. There's a fine line between love and obsession. Ivan knew this and conquered the evil King Winter and Natalia. King Winter was taken prisoner and… moved on… and Natalia ate a poison apple and shared the same fate as the king, aru. The prince did _all_ of this just because he loved his fairest maiden."

"That's cool!"

"Yes, isn't it? And then Ivan and Yao got married, with a couple unnecessary interruptions from Yong Soo, and Tino and Alfred."

"Then…?"

"They adopted a little girl named Taiwan from the kingdom of China and North Korea, because her parents were killed for being part of the modernist movement in southern China. Even though she wasn't their daughter, Ivan and Yao loved her anyway, aru."

"So that was the story about you and Papa?"

"Yes. And you."

"Ah, Yao, you seem to missing a very important part of that story," a voice called from the doorway.

"Papa!" Taiwan squealed loudly, and hopped down from her perch on Yao's lap to run and hug Ivan's leg. The king of the Soviet Union laughed heartily and picked his adopted daughter up, holding her high in the air as she continued to chant his name. Finally, he held Taiwan with one arm to collect Yao into his embrace with the other.

"And what are my two favorite people doing?" Ivan asked. "And it is so late, printsessa! You are still awake?"

"Mama was telling me a story," Taiwan answered. "I'm a big girl, so I can stay up."

"Big girls know when they should be sleeping," Ivan told her gently. "You want to be a big girl and make Papa proud, da?" The princess nodded. "Then Mama and I must put you to bed."

"But I don't want to sleep! You said Mama skipped a part…"

"I did no such thing, aru," Yao said.

"Oh, here is where you are wrong, fairest maiden," Ivan began. Yao rolled his eyes at the cliché pet name, which made Taiwan giggle. "You forgot the most important ending line of all fairytales. How does it go…? 'Happily ever after'?"

"Happily ever after?" Yao repeated. Ivan smiled softly and nodded, then pressed a quick kiss to the other's lips.

"Da. And they all lived happily ever after."

**The End.**

* * *

******A/N**: Told you it was cracky. And fluffy. I can't wait to see you all again for some more fun!


End file.
